


Cat on a Hot Tin Gargoyle

by lscar123



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Slightly inspired by Batman Returns, Slow Burn, Stray!Tim, Tim Drake is Catlad, Tim Drake is Stray, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-08-19 05:25:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16528244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lscar123/pseuds/lscar123
Summary: Timothy Drake died on December 24th, he was reborn as the clock struck midnight on December 25th.





	1. The Sound of Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> I've been DYING to write a Stray!Tim fic ever since I learned it was actually a thing. I've been working on this first chapter for close to two months now, and it's gone through so many changes but I'm finally happy with it! I hope you guys enjoy it because I've been wanting to post it for forever. 
> 
> Jason doesn't appear in the first chapter, but he'll show up in chapter 2!

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

The Sound of Rebirth

 

The ground is cold beneath her feet, but she keeps moving.

Cold flakes are falling from the sky, but she keeps moving.

She can feel it, the calling, a soul reaching out.

It’s close.

So close.

She moves across the earth, her tail swishing behind her as she walks.

She can feel others of her kind around her, she calls to them as she moves.

**Join me.**

**Help me.**

**It’s time.**

She can feel them as they join her, falling into an unorganized line as they move across the city.

They are on rooftops, down below in the stink of the sewer, in warm homes, and they are all coming to her as she calls.

**It’s time.**

Her whiskers twitch as she stands at the front of the alley, the darkness is almost too thick for her vision to penetrate.

But she sees who is calling to her.

It’s a boy.

A small, sad, broken boy.

A dying boy.

A moment later.

A dead boy.

She is sad, because she cherishes all life.

Life is special, it is a gift.

She doesn’t like when gifts are taken by force.

She doesn’t like when gifts are given up by choice.

She doesn’t know how this gift was lost, but she knows she can help.

She can help, if the dead boy is worthy.

She walks into the alley, it’s colder there.

It smells terrible. It smells of garbage, of rot, of death.

It doesn’t stop her.

The dead boy is nearby now, and he looks so much smaller up close.

He is pale, so pale, but he is turning blue from the cold. He does not have the fur that she does to keep herself warm.

He is the opposite of her, she is dark, so dark, and so warm.

There is something around the dead boy, a deep, scarlet red tainting the pure white snow around him.

Blood.

The poor, poor, dead little boy.

She hopes he is worthy.

He is bruised, he is broken, he is dead. But his he worthy?

She crawls on top of him, taking great care to not hurt him with her claws. He is dead, but she still should not hurt him any further.

Even if he is not worthy, he is still precious.

His eyes are open, but there is nothing behind them.

There is no light left in the boy.

There is blood on his face though, it’s sticky, and a little warm.

It smells sweet, something she did not expect to smell in this alley.

She can feel her kind gathering around her. They sit on the roof, on the metal bars above her, on the lids of dumpsters and trashcans.

They are watching. They are waiting. They are judging along with her.

She leans forward, pressing the tip of her nose into the dead boy’s neck.

He smells pure.

Safe.

It makes her sad that he was not kept safe.

She can tell someone hurt him. It makes her want to hurt someone.

She lets out a low rumble, it vibrates through her body to let the rest of her kind know.

He is safe.

She looks down at him again, and she leans in to lick the blood from his face.

It hits her instantly, like an electric shock through her body.

She feels it, so purely, so perfectly, so terrifyingly.

He is worthy.

He is more than worthy.

He is too worthy.

She cannot do this alone.

She could, but she will not.

He does not deserve to be alone.

He will never be alone again, if she has her way.

She always has her way.

She looks up at the sky, there are no stars, but there are lights.

She can see those of her kind. They are watching.

They are waiting.

She opens her mouth, she lets loose a sound that they will all understand.

**He is worthy.**

**He is too worthy.**

**He needs Her.**

Her kind understands instantly. They answer her, singing her praises, thanking her for the work she does for them.

They will keep the dead boy safe.

He will not be alone.

Never again.

They leap from the roof, crawl out from the spots they are hiding, the fill the alley with their presence.

They come to the dead boy, and she backs away. She watches as they circle him.

They cover him in their warmth.

They lick the blood from his wounds.

Her tail stands on end as she watches them. She is filled with pride.

Her kind is beautiful, they are so loving.

They protect the gift.

She leaves them, knowing that the dead boy will be safe.

She cannot do this alone, and they know it.

She needs to find the first one.

She needs to find Her.

 

X

 

Catwoman stood on the edge of the roof, looking down at the festivities below. It was late, it was cold as hell, but that never stopped anyone on Christmas Eve. She could see the ice-skating rink across from the building she was perched on. She watched as loving couples skated together, hand in hand, as Christmas music played softly in the background.

She was never one for Christmas, it wasn’t an overtly festive day when you had no family to share it with. She did, however, like what came after Christmas.

So many _interesting_ items to peruse through.

Catwoman stepped away from the edge of the roof. The heels of her boot crushed the snow underneath as she walked, it wouldn’t take much time for her to get home from where she was. She’d have to move a little bit more carefully, thanks to the stands of pears occupying the small bag strapped to her side.

Just as the was about to make her leap to the next rooftop, a chill ran up her spine. Her skin tingled, and she cocked her head to the side as she crouched low to the ground.

“Please, stop. You can keep your money, please. I won’t…I won’t say anything. Just please, let me go.”

Catwoman stood, unstrapping the small pack from her side. She dug a hole in the snow, dropped the precious bag into it, and covered it back up. No one would be on the rooftop at this time of night, and if someone found the pearls then they deserved them more than she did.

Her new destination was in the opposite direction from home, and she knew this one was going to get ugly.

She sprung forward, clearing the gap between the two rooftops with ease. She moved quickly, intently, towards the sounds of violence and rage. She was several blocks away, but she made it to her destination before it was too late.

She could see the scene from her new rooftop. It was a working girl, one of the younger ones Catwoman had recently met. She was backed against a wall in a dirty alley, her skin almost blue from exposure. Her flaming red hair was wild, and Catwoman could see the bruises already forming on her neck. The John reeked of alcohol, the smell was so strong it burned her nose.

The man standing in front of her was beyond stereotypical. Catwoman knew what happened instantly, the stupid sack of shit couldn’t get it up and he was taking it out on Mary. As if it was Mary’s fault that he had the bright idea to get drunk and pull his dick out in twenty-degree weather.

The John raised his first to strike Mary again, and Catwoman was off the roof and onto the ground before he could move, pulling her googles over her eyes as she landed. She let out a high whistle, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for the John to turn and face her.

Mary’s eyes lit up in surprise, “Catwoman! You came, they said you would, but I didn’t believe them.”

Catwoman took a step forward, keeping her eyes on the John, “Merry Christmas, Mary.”

“Who the fuck are you?” The John slurred, “This don’t have anything to do with you, freak bitch.”

Catwoman rolled her eyes, “Why is bitch always the go to for you people?”

The John lumbered towards her, drawing back his fist to throw a punch. He was slow, he would be just as sloppy even if he was sober. Catwoman dodged him effortlessly, leaning backwards into a deliberately slow handstand before finding her footing behind the drunk man.

He turned, confused at her new position. Catwoman smirked, driving her knee into the John’s stomach. He let out a low, guttural sound, and Catwoman almost gagged at the disgusting smell that came from his mouth. She slammed him into the wall, pressing her forearm over his throat to hold him into place.

“You say sorry to Mary.” Catwoman purred, “Be a good little boy and do as I say.”

“Fuck you.” He spat, “Fuck the girl too.”

Catwoman huffed out a dry laugh, “You couldn’t fuck her though, isn’t that the whole problem?”

The John’s face turned bright red, shame and anger mixing together, he opened his mouth to no doubt scream more derogatory insults, but Catwoman cut him off. She raised her free hand, holding it just in front of his face, and popped the claws in her gloves.

The sharp metal glittered under the cheap Christmas lights strung up above.

Catwoman lightly traced the tip of a claw over the John’s chapped lips, and then slowly trailed it down his body. When she got to his crotch, she grabbed a handful and twisted violently. The John screamed, but Catwoman knew there was no one around to hear him.

“Let’s try this again,” Catwoman hissed, “you apologize to Mary for your limp dick, or I’ll cut it off so you’ll never have to worry about it not working again.”

Catwoman tightened her grip, letting one of the claws pierce through the denim of his pants with a satisfying pop just to drive the point home. The John’s eyes widened, and then he started to cry.

“I’m…I’m…so….sorry. Mary, I’m…sorry.”

“For?” Catwoman hissed.

“I’m sorry for my limp dick!” The John screamed.

Catwoman looked over her shoulder to find Mary hiding a smile behind a thin hand, “Do you accept his apology, Mary?”

Mary nodded, “As long as he never comes back here again.”

Catwoman turned back to the John, “I think we can agree to that, can’t we?”

The John nodded, “I’m never coming back here.”

“Do you know what will happen if you do?” Catwoman leaned in, whispering the question in his ear.

The John nodded, “You’ll cut my dick off.”

Catwoman smiled, letting go of him and taking a step backwards. Before the John could move, Catwoman swiped her claws across his face. His forehead, the bridge of his nose, above his top lip, and his chin. For straight lines bloomed red with blood, the John screamed and fell to the side.

Catwoman flicked her hand forward, shaking the droplets of blood off the metal tips of her claws, “That was for touching her in the first place, you sack of shit.”

The John ran away screaming, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Catwoman watched him go, amused, and retracted her claws back into her gloves. She turned back to Mary, resting both hands on her hips.

“Thank you, Catwoman.” Mary gasped.

“Where is Cinnamon?” Catwoman asked, “I was under the impression that she was supposed to be looking out for you.”

Mary’s eyes widened, “She was, but it’s Christmas and she has her son, so I told her to go home, I thought I would be fine walking alone. But then I saw him, and I knew I needed $50 more to cover my rent…”

Catwoman sighed, taking in the sight of the girl in front of her. She couldn’t be older than eighteen, if that. She remembered herself at that age, remembered what Gotham City did to her.

Gotham City was not kind to people. It was sad, and it shouldn’t be the case, but it was still true. It turned out victims daily, either by chance or circumstance. Some people rose above Gotham, and some people fell below.

Mary had come very close to falling below Gotham tonight. She wouldn’t be the only one with a close call before the sun came up, but she would be one of the lucky few that made it through.

Catwoman unzipped a small pouch on her side, pulling out five folded hundred-dollar bills. She pressed them into the palm of Mary’s hand.

“Pay your rent, and buy yourself something nice.” Catwoman said, “Don’t let tonight destroy you.”

Mary stared down at the money, her eyes wide and sparkling with tears, “Catwoman…”

“Merry Christmas, Mary.”

Catwoman turned, jumping into the air and grabbing onto the fire escape. She pulled herself up, scaling the metal structure until she was on the roof. It was a short journey back to the rooftop she’d hidden the pearls, she could make it back to her apartment with time to spare before midnight if she moved quickly enough.

What Catwoman didn’t expect to find was Miss Kitty, sitting on top of the small mound of snow the pearls were hidden under. Miss Kitty’s black fur stood in stark contrast to the white snow, and she looked up at Catwoman with golden eyes.

Catwoman pulled the googles from her face, “Miss Kitty?”

Miss Kitty’s tail swished back and forth through the snow.

Catwoman took a step forward, and Miss Kitty hopped from her spot in the snow onto the edge of the roof. Catwoman uncovered the pearls, strapped them to her side, and turned back to Miss Kitty.

Miss Kitty cocked her head to the side, Catwoman mirrored the action. They stared at each other, Miss Kitty didn’t blink until she turned and jumped from one roof to the next. She settled herself on the edge of the second roof and looked back at Catwoman, letting out a soft meow. Catwoman arched an eyebrow, but jumped across to the next roof without saying anything.

As soon as Catwoman landed, Miss Kitty took off and jumped to the next room. Catwoman followed her, chasing the black cat through the snowy rooftops of Gotham. Miss Kitty didn’t stop again, didn’t look over her shoulder, she trusted that Catwoman was following her in the same way that she trusted Miss Kitty to lead her wherever it was they were going.

It must be important, because contrary to widely held belief cats don’t just randomly show up to ask her for help. Miss Kitty was different, special in the way that Catwoman was special. They were both simple, ordinary creatures, but they were also so much more.

They passed the Gotham clocktower as they ran. It stood like an obelisk, the glowing face shining through the darkness of the city. It was only minutes until midnight, minutes until it was officially Christmas morning.

Miss Kitty leapt from the edge of the next building, but this time she went downwards instead of over. Catwoman came to a stop on the edge of the building, looking down to see Miss Kitty standing in the middle of the snow-covered street. Catwoman followed her down, flipping off the roof and landing on her feet.

There was no one else around, the street was devoid of any life. They were in a nice neighborhood, much nicer than the one Catwoman had just come from. Affluent brownstones lined both sides of the street, no doubt filled with sleeping children waiting to wake up to find out what Santa left under their tree.

It was the kind of neighborhood Catwoman would usually avoid unless she was following a specific mark. Tonight there was no mark, only Miss Kitty.

The wind blew, bringing a flurry of snow along with it. Catwoman’s suit was well insulated, but even she felt the chill deep into her bones. Miss Kitty proceeded on, heedless of the growing snowstorm. She pranced along through the snow, adding an identical set of tracks right next to ones that were partially covered with snow.

Miss Kitty disappeared into the mouth of an alley between two brownstones. There were Christmas lights strung up on either side of the alley, but it barely provided any light. Catwoman stopped before crossing the threshold as an entirely new kind of chill overtook her body.

It wasn’t from the cold, or the snow, it was from death.

She could sense something terrible in the alley. She could smell the putrid scent of death, the scent of failed organs and stagnant blood. She almost extended her claws, but Miss Kitty led her here. She trusted the cat, trusted that Miss Kitty wouldn’t lead her anywhere she wasn’t supposed to be.

So Catwoman stepped into the alley, letting herself be swallowed by the darkness against all of her natural and unnatural instincts.

She pushed past the feeling of unease, and walked towards the feeling of death.

The deeper she got into the alley, the more she realized she was being watched. She looked up, finding the eyes of dozens of cats tracking her as she moved. They lined the tops of either side of the brownstones, the fire escapes, and she looked over her shoulder to find more closing in behind her.

Dozens upon dozens of cats gathered in a single alley. An alley Miss Kitty had led Catwoman directly to.

She didn’t have to wonder for long, because Miss Kitty stopped walking and settled herself at the foot of a body.

Catwoman found herself breathless. It was a boy, a small, almost frozen, boy.

There was blood in the snow all around him. Most of it was centered around his head, framing his pale face with a crimson halo. He was young, far too young to be left like this. He wore nice clothes, expensive ones that told Catwoman that he wasn’t a young runaway.

Miss Kitty wound between Catwoman’s legs, brushing her tail against her boots. Miss Kitty walked to the boy, hopping onto his stomach and setting herself on the middle of his unmoving chest. Catwoman took another step forward, and the sea of cats around the boy parted to let her through. She crouched down next to his body and pulled the hood of her suit down, shaking out her hair as it was freed.

She couldn’t be Catwoman for this.

Selina pulled off a glove, placing it gently next to her in the snow. She reached out her hand, brushing the matted hair away from the boys’ head. His skin was ice cold to the touch, she trailed her hand down his face and to the crook of his neck. She knew it was impossible, but she had to check for a pulse anyway.

There wasn’t one.

Selina looked at the boy, her heart breaking. Someone else had fallen to Gotham tonight, a beautiful, innocent boy. He couldn’t be more than twelve years old.

 Selina could see the beginning of bruises under the collar of his shirt. They weren’t new, and they certainly weren’t caused by whatever just happened to him.

They were old bruises, perfectly sized to the shape of a grown man’s fists. The was a ring of bruises around the boy’s wrist, perfect marks in the shape of fingers of a man much bigger than Selina or the boy himself. Selina suspected there were more bruises that she couldn’t see.

It was as Gotham of a story as any.

“I’m so sorry, kitten.” Selina whispered, “Someone should have saved you a long time ago.”

She leaned back, running a hand through her long hair. She thought about calling the Bat. If this was a job for anyone, it would be him. He was better at this than Selina was, he could find who was responsible for this and make sure they never hurt another innocent person again.

But that wasn’t what she was brought here, she realized.

Selina knew what was happening.

“Miss Kitty?” Selina looked down at Miss Kitty.

Miss Kitty stood, gently placing a paw on the top of Selina’s hand. She extended her claws, pricking into the top of Selina’s skin. Selina didn’t pull away; her hand was so numb from the cold that she barely felt the pain. Miss Kitty dug in deeper, and soon blood began to pool on the top of Selina’s hand. Miss Kitty pulled her paw away after a few seconds, and then she looked up at Selina.

“Yes.” Selina answered a silent question.

Miss Kitty placed her paw on the center of the boy’s forehead. She pulled her paw back, leaving a print of her paw in Selina’s blood on his pale skin. Miss Kitty walked forward, gently stepping on the boy’s chest, and leaned down to his forehead. Selina watched as Miss Kitty licked the boy’s forehead, dragging her tongue through the blood and cleaning the pawprint off entirely only a few moments later.

Miss Kitty settled herself back on his chest, tipping her head up towards the sky and let out a loud yowl. It was a low, keening sound. To anyone else it would sound like mourning, but Selina knew what the sound meant.

A loud clang in the distance drew Selina’s attention. The bell of the Gotham clocktower rang out, echoing through the space and blending seamlessly with Miss Kitty.

The bell signaled the stroke of midnight.

It was officially Christmas.

The boy’s eyes shot open, wide, deep blue, and panicked. He gasped, a choked off scream dying as it tried to leave his mouth. The chiming of the bell slowly faded away, dying out like embers of an old fire. The only sound left in the alley was the ragged breaths the boy was pulling into his lungs.

It was the sound of rebirth.

 

 

^  ^

 

Fall. Verb. Moving downward, typically rapidly and without control, from a higher to a lower level.

The last thing Timothy remembered was falling. Things came before that, like raised voices and sharp, throbbing pain. But the last thing Timothy Drake remembered was falling, the feeling of the air rushing past his body as he plummeted to the ground. He didn’t remember the impact, didn’t remember why he fell, just that he did.

The world around him was hazy, but wherever he was it was somewhere soft. Timothy wondered if he was dead, and if he was dead, where he was. Was he in heaven? Heaven seemed like it would be a soft and warm place. He could hear something in the background, something that sounded suspiciously like a television.

Would there be television in heaven? The cable package was probably amazing if there was.

He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, part of him didn’t want to. What if he wasn’t in heaven? What if he was in hell? Or worse, what if he was back home?

No, that wasn’t right. He knew he wasn’t at home. If he was at home, he wouldn’t feel warm and soft.

There was only one way to find out.

Timothy opened his eyes.

He opened his eyes and saw a fan circling above him on the lowest setting, just moving in a lazy circle. He watched it for a moment, unable to tear his eyes away from the way it moved. He tracked the blades, his eyes never once blinking.

When he finally gained the courage to look elsewhere, he found that he was in a room that was entirely unfamiliar to him. The bed he was in was enormous, he stretched both his arms out to the side and still couldn’t reach either edge. The entire left wall of the room was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows and a sliding door that led out to a balcony. The Gotham skyline stretched out as far as he could see, so he knew he hadn’t left the city.

He pushed himself up in the bed and waited for the pain to come, but he didn’t feel anything wrong. He was in a long sleeve shirt he didn’t remember owning, the sleeves were so long that they hung down past his hands. His lower half was clad in sweatpants with legs that looked like they’d been cut shorter with a pair of scissors. He rolled up a sleeve of his shirt, inspecting the bruises there that were almost healed.  

“Where am I?” Timothy whispered to himself.

The room itself was huge. The furniture was sleek and black, definitely expensive. A door on the right side of the room was cracked open, and Tim could see what looked like a large walk in closet behind it. A vanity sat nearby, filled with all kinds of makeup and skincare products.

The room belonged to a woman then.

Which was weird, the only woman that Timothy even spent time with was his mother, and unless she had an apartment away from his father, he certainly wasn’t with her right now.

Timothy took a step forward and wobbled on his feet a bit. He felt unsteady, like his legs hadn’t been used in a while. He didn’t know what day it was, there was no calendar, and he didn’t have his phone to check the date. Last Timothy remembered it was Christmas, there was still snow falling outside so at least he hadn’t been in a coma for years or something insane like that. He walked across the room, trailing his fingers over the smooth surfaces of furniture when he came across a collection of picture frames.

He picked one up, it was heavy, probably solid silver, and looked at the people in it. One of them was a blonde woman he didn’t recognize, but the second one was someone he’d seen around before. Her dark hair hung loose, cascading over her shoulders, and a sly grin was aimed at the camera.

“Selina Kyle?” Timothy wondered out loud.

She was in every picture, there wasn’t a single on without her in it. Did that mean he was in Selina Kyle’s apartment?

Selina Kyle was one of Gotham’s most popular socialites, known for her charitable contributions as much as she was for her take no prisoners attitude when it came to people who’d gotten on the wrong side of her. Timothy’s mother always made a point to avoid her at events, she never liked her, and Timothy figured that Selina Kyle wouldn’t have liked his mother either.

Timothy had seen her only once at an event, dancing around the room with Bruce Wayne in her arms.

Timothy walked towards what he thought was the door that led out of the bedroom. He opened it and found himself in a wide hallway that was lined with expensive looking art. Timothy ignored them as he walked, but he couldn’t help but notice the way the colors swirled together on some of the paintings. The hallway let out onto a smaller balcony that overlooked the lower part of the apartment. There was a staircase close by, so Timothy decided to head down it to see what he could find.

He paused halfway down the stairs when his eyes fell on a woman sitting on the couch. She was in pajamas, and a bowl of ice cream was balanced on her lap. A cat was perched on the back of the couch, its head perked up and it locked eyes with Timothy. The cat opened its mouth, letting out a soft mew, and hopped off the couch and headed straight towards Timothy.

The cat wound its way around his legs, purring softly as it rubbed itself against his calf. The woman looked up, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when she saw Timothy. Timothy sucked in a panicked breath when he locked eyes with Selina Kyle. As if it senses his distress, the cat jumped up to the banister of the stairs, delicately walked the thin line towards Timothy, and then jumped onto his shoulder. The cat butted its head against Timothy’s cheek, still purring as its tail swept across his back in a comforting manner.

“She likes you.” Selina said with a sly smile, turning off the TV before Timothy could see what was playing on it.

“She?” Timothy repeated dumbly, in absence of anything else to say.

Selina’s spoon clinked against the bowl as he pulled it out, she pointed it in the direction of the cat on Tim’s shoulder, “Miss Kitty.”

The cat meowed at the mention of her name, and Timothy reached up to run a hand over her head. She let out another meow, and then drug her prickly tongue across the back of his hand. The sensation was so foreign that it startled a laugh out of Timothy.

“What am I doing here, Miss Kyle?” Timothy asked, still not forgetting his manners among all the confusion.

Selina laughed, tossing her head back, “Oh god, please don’t call me that. Selina is more than fine, little one.”

“Selina,” the name felt heavy on Timothy’s tongue, “How did I get here?”

Selina sat her bowl of ice cream on the table and stood up from the couch. She crossed the room slowly, it almost seemed to Timothy like she was doing her best to not spook him. He suddenly felt like a stray animal. Selina didn’t approach him completely, she kept about a five-foot distance between them.

“She found you.” Selina said, “She found you, and she brought me to you.”

“She?” Timothy wondered out loud, “Who’s she?”

Miss Kitty butted her head against Timothy chin. She let out another meow, then licked a stripe along the side of his cheek. When Timothy looked back at Selina, she was smiling against. It wasn’t her sly smile, it was warm, comforting almost.

It suddenly dawned on Timothy what she meant. He turned his head until he was facing Miss Kitty, she was so close to him that her features were almost blurry, but he could see himself reflected back in her golden eyes. She hopped down from his shoulder, walked over to Selina, and stood next to her silently. Her black fur gleamed under the low lighting of Selina’s apartment.

“Miss Kitty…found me?” Saying the word out loud didn’t help Timothy feel any less stupid about thinking it could be true.

Selina hummed, reaching down to scoop up Miss Kitty and pull her close to her chest, she ran her fingers down the back of Miss Kitty’s coat, “She works in mysterious ways.”

Selina turned her back to him, heading back to the couch and picking up her bowl of ice cream again. Miss Kitty reclaimed her spot on the couch, but she stared at Timothy until he started to walk towards her. He didn’t exactly know what to do, he’d just woken up in the apartment of a strange woman who told him that her cat brought her to him. The thing was though, Timothy wasn’t scared.

He felt safe around Selina and Miss Kitty, and he had a lot of practice feeling unsafe around people.

Timothy took a seat on the opposite side of the couch from Selina. He tucked his feet under him, and the second he got settled, Miss Kitty pranced over to him and curled herself up in his lap. Timothy couldn’t deny the warmth she made him feel, so he dropped his hand and unconsciously rubbed the side of her stomach as he tried to think of what to say.

“How long have I been here?” Timothy asked after a few minutes of nothing but the sound of Miss Kitty’s purring and Selina’s spoon clanking against her bowl passed.

“I found you on Christmas morning.” Selina said, not answering the question entirely.

Timothy thought back to the last thing he could remember before the sensation of falling. It was still Christmas Eve in his mind, and the sound of angry voices and braking glass filled his ears instead of songs about Santa and snowmen.

“What day is it now?” Timothy asked.

Instead of answering, Selina leaned forward and scooped the remote off the coffee table. She lifted it, pointed it at the TV, and hit the power button. The screen blinked to life, and Timothy’s eyes went wide at what was on the screen.

It was the image of a glowing ball slowly descending on top of a tall building. The people on the TV screamed in anticipation.

“Five, four, three, two, one!” Fireworks exploded on the screen, confetti cannons shot out over the crowd, “Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year, Kitten.” Selina said softly, “I was starting to get worried you’d never wake up.”

Timothy felt his chest tighten. It felt like pure terror, almost the same feeling that he got when he heard the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway, the feeling he got when he saw the light flicker under his door when the shadow in the hall pause in front of it. He’d been asleep for a week, gone, in a random apartment, away from his mother.

Away from his father.

Timothy’s breath started coming in ragged. He gasped, feeling the terrible scrape of air trying to get past his rapidly closing throat.

“Can you breath for me, Kitten?” Selina’s vice tried to break through his panic.

Timothy could hear her, but he couldn’t listen to anything she was saying. He didn’t know what he was going to do, how he was going to explain this to his father. It would be an embarrassment to their family, and Timothy knew very well what happened when you embarrassed family.

Something soft hit Timothy under his chin. The surprise of the feeling momentarily stalled Timothy’s panic, and then something hit him again. Timothy looked down to see Miss Kitty’s golden eyes staring at him, she began to purr, pressing herself into the uncomfortable space in Timothy’s chest. The feeling of her rumbling grounded Timothy, it made him think of her instead of the terrifying feeling of dread that was pressing down on him completely.

“That’s good,” Selina said softly, “keep breathing like that. It’ll be over in a moment.”

Timothy closed his eyes, doing his best to focus on the sound of Miss Kitty rather than the hammering of his heart in his own chest. It felt like an eternity, the seconds dragging by slowly while Timothy worked to calm himself. Eventually though, Timothy felt his pulse slow back down to a reasonably normal rate, and Miss Kitty hopped off him and walked across the room towards her bowl of water on the floor.

“Feeling better?” Selina asked.

Timothy managed a jerky nod, “I think.”

“You must have questions.” Selina stood and grabbed her bowl from the coffee table.

Timothy watched her as she moved. She was graceful, like every move she made had a purpose. Which is why it surprised Timothy when the bowl she was holding slipped out of her hand just as she walked past him. Timothy didn’t think, he didn’t even look really, he just reacted. He stuck his left hand out to the side, dipping slightly to catch the bowl just before it hit the ground and shattered.

The bowl was still cool to the touch, and the melted remnants of the ice cream that used to be inside of it didn’t even spill over. He looked down at his hand, his eyes wide with confusion, and then looked back up at Selina. She was giving him a knowing smile, and Timothy decided that he did, in fact, have a lot of questions.

Tim slowly lifted his hand up towards Selina, and when she looked him straight in the eye as she took it from him, he said, “I do.”

Selina nodded once, and then disappeared behind the couch to where Tim assumed the kitchen was. He didn’t turn to watch her, he just stared at his hand in disbelief. He’d never done something like that before, his coordination had always left something to be desired. It was why he never carried glass plates around his father anymore.

He turned his attention back to the TV, he grabbed the remote and realized that the volume was set to just one level before the TV was muted entirely. Yet he’d heard it from all the way up the stairs and down the hallway as soon as he’d woken up.

The sound of Selina’s footsteps drew Timothy’s attention, “Before I explain anything to you, there’s something you need to see. However, I’m more than a little hesitant to show it to you after what just happened.”

Timothy took a deep breath, “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“Can you?” Selina asked, arching an eyebrow, “You just had a panic attack because you found out you’ve been asleep for six days. Trust me, Kitten, what I need to show you is much worse than that.”

Timothy couldn’t deny the fact that he was scared by whatever it was that Selina needed to show him. He didn’t know her, and he probably shouldn’t have trusted her, but it felt like there was some sort of bond between them. It didn’t make sense to Timothy, but he felt that Selina had all the answers he needed. He hadn’t realized it when he woke up, but now Timothy couldn’t deny the fact that he felt different.

“Please, Selina.” Timothy said softly.

Selina picked up the remote, opened her DVR menu, and selected a recording of one of the local news channels that was from the previous day. Miss Kitty hopped over the back of the couch, she curled up on Timothy’s lap in what felt like a pre-emptive gesture of support.

Selina clicked play, and Timothy stared at the screen. He watched as an old photograph of him stretched out across the screen, it was his school photo from the previous year. He was smiling brightly, but Timothy knew that it was forced. 

The voice of a news anchor played over a slideshow of pictures of himself, “GCPD has confirmed that the body of a young boy that was recovered late last night is the body of eleven-year-old Timothy Drake.”

Timothy gasped, “What the hell?”

Miss Kitty meowed, shoving her head under Timothy’s palm.

“His parents, Jack and Janet Drake, could not be reached for comment, but their spokesperson put out a statement a few hours ago saying the Drake family was requesting privacy during this difficult time.”

Timothy’s eyes snapped to Selina, “I don’t understand.”

“Keep watching.” Selina nodded back at the TV.

“Timothy Drake was reported missing early Christmas morning by his father, wealthy Gotham businessman, Jack Drake. Police responded to the Drake residence promptly, and there they discovered signs of forced entry into Timothy’s bedroom. A city-wide search was conducted over the last week, and it was one that unfortunately came to a terrible end only a few hours ago.”

A silent clip rolled, it was of his father standing on the front steps of the GCPD headquarters. He was crying, his arm wrapped around his mothers’ shoulder. Timothy knew the tears were fake the instant he saw them.

“You kidnapped me?” Timothy accused Selina, because it was the only thing that made sense.

Selina didn’t look offended at the accusation, “I found your body in an alley just outside the neighborhood you house is in. You weren’t breathing, which is why Miss Kitty brought me to you.”

“But…” Timothy trailed off, “They just said they found a body! _My_ body!”

Selina pressed play again, “GCPD confirmed that an arrest has already been made in the case. Franklin Demers, an employee who was recently let go from Drake Industries, has been arrested and charged for the murder of Timothy Drake. The police are being tight lipped on the reason for the arrest, but sources in the department shared exclusively with GEN2 that there was an overwhelming amount of physical evidence that tied Demers to the murder of Timothy Drake. We’ll keep you up to date as the story develops.”

Timothy had never seen that man before in his entire life. He was almost certain he hadn’t been kidnapped by him, even if the last few hours of Christmas Eve were hazy in his head.

“He’s being framed.” Timothy said, thought it felt a bit like stating the obvious, “I have to help him, I can’t let something happen to an innocent man.”

“You can’t go back, Timothy.” Selina said, “You’re dead.”

“I’m not dead though!” Timothy insisted, “I’m right here! All I have to do is go down to the station and tell them what happened.”

“I’ve seen the bruises on your body, Timothy.” Selina said softly, “I’m no fool, I know where they came from. I have a good idea about what truly happened to you, and I think you do too.”

Timothy could remember pain. It was more pain than he’d ever felt in his entire life. Then he remembered the feeling of falling through the air, and then everything went black. There was no memory of anything between falling and waking up in Selina’s apartment.

“We both know what would happen if you went back.” Selina said.

Timothy did know what would happen. He knew the kind of friends his father had, and he knew he wouldn’t last a second out on the street by himself. Even walking into a crowded police station wouldn’t help him, the police in Gotham weren’t exactly known for staying above the law.

“I…” Timothy felt helpless, “I don’t know what to do.”

“I can help you, Kitten.” Selina said, “But it will take time.”

“How?” Timothy asked, “How do I even know I can trust you?”

Selina felt safe, but they didn’t mean she was. What kind of woman kept an eleven-year-old in her apartment for a week while he slept in a damn near coma? Timothy knew his chances alone weren’t that great, but how much better could it be with Selina?

Selina didn’t say anything, she just turned off the TV as she stood up from the couch. Timothy watched her as she walked. She crossed to the other side of the room and stopped in front of a large trunk with a keypad on it. She bent down, punched in the code, and Timothy heard the sound of the case unlocking. Selina lifted the top of the case, reached inside, and pulled out a black leather suit.

Timothy stared at her, his jaw slack, as she held it up for him to see. He was ready to bolt for the door, especially when the leather suit was followed by an honest to god _whip_. He really, really, really, didn’t want to be involved in whatever was about to go down.

Just as Timothy was about to make a break for it, Selina pulled out a pair of goggles. She dangled them off the tip of her finger, the amber lenses looking almost red under the light of her apartment. It was then that Timothy noticed that there was a hood attached to the leather suit, and that hood had cat ears on it.

Following the antics of the various costumed heroes and villains of Gotham City was Timothy’s only escape from his home life. He’d seen enough to know exactly who that suit belonged to. The realization rendered Timothy speechless.

Selina smirked at him, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

If there was any doubt left in his mind, the terrible pun would have eradicated it.

“Holy shit.” Timothy whispered, “You’re Catwoman.”

No one in Gotham knew who Catwoman was. She was one of the most notorious thieves in the country, and she’d never once been caught. She always managed to make it out of her constant tangles with Batman and Robin, and the police never had any hope of catching her to begin with.

“I guess the cat is out-”

Tim cut her off, “Please don’t say it.”

Selina huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes as she dropped her costume back into the case and locked it. She lingered next to it for a moment, but then returned to her previous spot on the couch next to Timothy.

“There’s a lot to explain to you, and I promise I will tell you all of it, but it cannot be done here.” Selina said.

“In your apartment?” Timothy cocked his head to the side.

Selina shook her head, “In Gotham. It’s not safe for you to be here.”

Timothy stared at her, blinking, “I…I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I do.” Selina said, “I can take you away from the city, I’ll explain everything to you, and you can make your choice.”

“My choice?” Timothy asked.

“I can train you, teach you how to defend yourself, and show you exactly how you can get justice for everything that has ever happened to you.” Selina said.

It was too much information for Timothy to absorb at once, but he had to. It sounded like Selina was offering to take him under her wing, to make him her accomplice. Or rather, her sidekick. It sounded too good to be true.

“What if I choose not to?” Timothy asked, just for the sake of knowing.

“I’ll still take you out of the city. It doesn’t matter which way you choose, you’re still in danger if you stay in Gotham right now.” Selina said, “I have people I trust who could look after you, they could give you a normal life where you’d never have to be hurt again.”

Timothy could see the appeal in both. One offer was winning over the other though. While Timothy had always wished to live a normal life with parents who loved him, he’d also always wanted the power to fight back. He’d spent countless hours imagining a time he decided to stand up for himself, to fight back.

Selina was offering to make those imaginary moments a reality.

“When would we leave?” Timothy asked.

Selina smiled, “I can have us on a private plane within the hour.”

“OK.” Timothy said.

Selina nodded, immediately grabbing for her cell phone to start chartering a flight. He wondered if Selina knew that he’d already decided, or if she would spend the flight thinking Timothy was going to leave the moment they were free of the city. Even though he didn’t have the answers to all of the questions he had, he knew enough to know exactly what he wanted to do.

Timothy Drake was already dead, and in an hour, he’d be gone from Gotham completely.


	2. Many Happy Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't planning on having a new chapter done this soon, but it was a pretty great distraction from the overwhelming anxiety of mid-term election results. feel free to distract me even more with comments lmao

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Many Happy Returns

 

Tim’s eyes slowly fluttered open as he felt the warmth of sunlight hit his face. He rolled onto his back and groaned, stretching out his long limbs under the heavy comforter that was draped over his body. The ceiling fan above him spun in a lazy circle, and he let his eyes track it for a few moments until it started to make him dizzy. With a sigh, he pushed the blanket off his body and swung his legs around and off the side of the bed. He stood the second his feet hit the plush carpet, and he raised both arms above his head as he stretched out again, working out any kinks that might have come from his first night’s sleep in a new bed.

He looked over as he noticed his door open slightly in her peripheral vision, his eyes falling onto the beautiful black cat that nosed its way into his new room. She looked at him, licked her lips, and then let out a soft meow.

Tim smiled, “Good morning to you too, Miss Kitty.”

Miss Kitty’s tail swished behind her as she walked, she jumped up onto Tim’s bed and promptly tossed her body into the tangle of blankets he’d left in his wake. She flipped over onto her back, kicking at a stay thread as she looked at him from upside down.

“I know,” Tim admitted to her quietly, “it is weird being back after so long.”

Tim looked past Miss Kitty and out of the large window on the far wall of his room. The Gotham City skyline was painted a warm golden color as the sun rose over it, washing the city with warmth and light for at least a few precious morning hours. They’d flown back into the city late last night, so it was the first Gotham City sunrise that Tim had seen in a little over four years.

The last time Tim was in Gotham City he was an entirely different person, both literally and figuratively.

Tim walked over to the mirror to inspect his reflection. His sleep pants hung low on his hips as he walked, and he scratched an itch on his bare chest before coming to a stop in front of the simple full body mirror that was placed into the corner of the room.

His blonde hair was sleep tousled, so he ran a hand through it to try and tame it back into place. He pushed it back, parting it a bit just to check and see if his dark roots had started to show yet. They hadn’t, which was probably because he’d touched them up the day before their flight back to Gotham, but it couldn’t hurt to check. The bags under his eyes were a little more prominent than they usually were, mostly because of the massive jet lag he was feeling from flying through three time zones, but it was nothing a bit of concealer couldn’t fix.

 He turned to the side and poked at one of the smaller scars on his rib cage. The tan he’d gotten during his and Selina’s last bit of relaxation on the beach made it stand out a bit more prominently, but it wasn’t like there was any danger of someone seeing it. Only one of the scars he’d gotten during his four years of training were visible, unfortunately it was the particularly nasty one that ran up the inside of his left forearm for nearly ten inches. Amusingly, the cover story for it was also the truth, he’d gotten it when he fell through a window. Unamusingly, some of his scars didn’t come from training with Selina at all.

The amount of muscle he’d gained over the years never failed to surprise him. He’d been a gangly kid when Selina found him dead in the street, just barely on the good side of malnourished due to the neglect of his old life. But now, he had the kind of body that the life he led required. Timothy probably never could have imagined himself in this kind of physical condition, but Tim required it. He could hold onto the edge of a building with just his fingertips for nearly an hour, and then still pull himself up from the edge and launch into a back handspring if he needed to.

He’d probably never need to, but it was still a nice trick to have in his bag just in case.

Tim reached over to the shelf that was near the mirror, swiping a small plastic box off it. He popped the top, picked up a contact lens with the tip of his finger, and gently popped it into his eye. He repeated the process for the other one, blinked a few times so they settled into place, and met the stare of now green eyes in the mirror.

Staring into his reflection, Tim couldn’t see a single sign of the boy he’d been the last time he was in Gotham.

Timothy Drake was still gone, and in his place stood Tim Kyle.

He opened the door to his right and stepped into the large walk in closet that Selina had filled with clothes that Tim had never seen before. They were all expensive, which wasn’t something Tim truly cared about, but he knew he needed to act the part now that they were back in Gotham City.

Selina Kyle’s adopted son couldn’t be seen walking around town in anything less than the best.

His fingers trailed along the racks of clothing, most of which still had the tags on. It dawned on him a moment later that Selina had organized them all by brand name. He was currently standing in the Burberry section, but he could see the beginning of the Dolce & Gabbana section a few rows down.

Tim huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes, looking down at Miss Kitty with a smile, “And she gets pouty and angry when I tell her I think she’s got a slight case of OCD.”

There was an island in the middle of the closet, its drawers were filled with various accessories like sunglasses and belts. That wasn’t the interesting part though, Tim trailed his hand across the smooth marble top, knowing exactly what was secretly hidden beneath it.

Miss Kitty butted her head against Tim’s shin, drawing him out of his thoughts.

“I know, I know.” Tim sighed, turning back to the racks of clothes to find something to wear out for his first excursion into the city.

He picked items at random, trusting his mind to make sure they went together. He pulled a soft floral button up from its hanger, not minding the surprisingly bright colored pattern, then grabbed the first pair of simple black jeans that he could find. He pulled them on, then finished the look off with a pair of black leather ankle boots. He plucked a watch from one of the drawers on the island on the way out, wrapping it around his wrist as Miss Kitty followed him back into his room.  

He moved from his closet to the bathroom. He wet his hair, ran a hand through it again, and then put some product in it to give it the _I care but I’m trying to make it look like I don’t care_ vibe. When he was more or less satisfied, he opened the drawer that he knew contained about ten different shades of concealer. He rummaged through it, finally settling on one that matched the color of his tanned skin and used the wand to apply just enough to cover the bags under his eyes. He grabbed one of his blending sponges and dabbed at it, blending it until it looked natural.

Miss Kitty was perched on the edge of the claw foot tub behind him, Tim looked at her in the mirror, “Please don’t let me forget to wash my face and moisturize before I go to bed again, no matter how tired I am.”

She didn’t make any sign that she’d committed to what he asked, but Tim trusted her to watch out for him.  

When he was finished, he left the bathroom and grabbed his phone and wallet from his nightstand before walking out into the hallway.

The apartment that were in now was much larger than the one Selina had when Tim met here four years ago. They’d gotten the penthouse of one of the newer buildings in the Diamond District, Selina had completely bought out the top floor of the building because it came complete with a private elevator that would be perfect for when they were coming and going late at night. He didn’t see any sign of Selina as he looked down to the first floor of the apartment, so he tipped his head to the side to see if he could hear anything.

The only sounds he could hear were his and Miss Kitty’s heartbeats.

“Selina?” Tim called out as he made his way down the staircase.

There was no answer, so Tim headed towards the kitchen to check for a note. It was a system they’d set up early on, since Selina tended to slip out unnoticed. There was a small note clipped to the fridge with a magnet, Selina’s elegant handwriting spread across it.

 

_Out finalizing plans for tonight, didn’t want to wake you. Go do something fun, I’ll be back later this afternoon._

Part of Tim was annoyed that Selina didn’t wake him to help with whatever she needed to do, but the other part of Tim was glad he’d gotten a few more hours of sleep. Selina preferred to start her days even earlier than he did.

Suddenly faced with a free morning, Tim felt slightly overwhelmed. He hadn’t expected to be in Gotham on his own this quickly, thought it was inevitable that it would happen. Maybe it was better this way, at least it showed how much faith Selina had in him. She wouldn’t have dared to leave him alone if she thought he couldn’t handle it, or if he couldn’t handle himself if he got into trouble.

Before he could do anything, Tim decided to eat something for breakfast. He opened the fridge, pulled out a selection of berries and yogurt, then searched through a few cabinets until he found a bowl. He dropped some granola in, found a spoon, and leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen as he ate.

Miss Kitty jumped up onto the island and stared at him. Tim laughed, bopping her on the end of her nose with a spoonful of yogurt. She didn’t look impressed, but it didn’t stop her from licking it from her nose. He finished off the rest of it while Miss Kitty watched him, then cleaned the bowl in the sink and sat it in the rack to dry.  

Tim turned back around to find Miss Kitty gone from the counter. He walked out of the kitchen and looked around the corner to find her curled up on the floor under a beam of sunlight that was filtering in through the floor to ceiling windows in the living room.

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go out with me, but you look pretty comfortable.” Tim said, shaking his head with a smile.

Missy Kitty looked at him for a second, then closed her eyes.

“Guess that answers that.” Tim laughed.

He thought about leaving a note for Selina in case she got back before him, but Tim didn’t really plan on going far. He had a single destination in mind, and it shouldn’t take him more than a few minutes to get there on foot. He’d known it would be the first place he went to in Gotham when he’d heard about it three years ago, but it seemed surreal that it was finally happening.

Tim pressed the button to call the private elevator in their entryway, and the doors immediately opened for him. He stepped into it, jammed the button for the lobby, and leaned back against the smooth metal surface of the wall as he waited for the elevator to complete its descent, which took exactly 45 seconds.

Tim timed it last night when they got in, just in case he ever needed that information for something.

At the 45 second mark, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Tim stepped out into the lobby and took in the sights around him. It wasn’t particularly busy, probably since everyone was still asleep at 7:30 in the morning on a Saturday.  

“Mister Kyle!” A bright, chipper voice drew Tim’s attention.

Tim turned his head towards the front desk, his eyes zeroing in on a girl who looked to be in her mid-twenties. She was attractive, fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders. He knew she probably hated calling someone younger than her by such a formal name, so he walked over to her with a smile.

Tim leaned his hip against the desk, “Please, call me Tim.”

“Oh.” The girl blinked in surprise, Tim read her nametag, “If that would make you more comfortable, sure.”

“It would, Sarah.” Tim laughed, “I’m way too young to be Mister Kyle.”

“Well, Tim, is there anything I can help you with this morning?” Sarah asked.

Tim shook his head, “No, I’m just going out for a walk to get a feel for the neighborhood.”

“Ah, OK.” Sarah smiled, “There’s a great little coffee place just around the corner, if you drink coffee.”

Tim laughed, “Oh, I do.”

The phone at the desk rang, drawing Sarah’s attention, “Have a good morning, Tim.”

“You too.” Tim gave her a final wave as she answered the phone, he turned on his heel and headed through the revolving doors and out into the streets of Gotham City by himself for the first time in four years.

Everything was different, but it was also entirely the same.

Some of the cars were newer, and it seemed like there were more people than Tim remembered, but it all felt like Gotham. Gotham was something you never forgot, no matter how long you stayed away from it. Tim knew what Gotham felt like, even when he was younger. It was like you were walking on the back of a sleeping beast, hoping and praying that it wouldn’t wake up.

Even the nicest parts of the city felt like that, it felt like you were always just around the corner from danger.

Tim kept walking, edging around people on the sidewalk. He was tempted to stop at the coffee shop Sarah recommended, but he was relatively sure they wouldn’t allow his coffee where he was going. After a few more minutes of walking, Tim’s eyes fell on his destination.

Just down the block sat a large building with imposing stone pillars that lined the front of it. The closer Tim got, the more the voice in his head kept telling him to turn around. He wasn’t in danger, at least not physically, but his body was still prickling with the sense of warning. Tim ignored the voice in his head, and soon he found himself standing in front of a wide stone staircase that led up to the front door of the building in front of him. He looked up and read the name etched in the face of the building.

The Timothy Drake Memorial Public Library.

Tim took a deep breath, clenching his fists to stop his hands before they started shaking. He could still remember the day that he’d found out about the library, the alert he’d set up on one of Selina’s computers for mentions of himself went off and he’d stared at the news article in shock until Selina found him an hour later. Later that night, Selina let him follow her on a job for the first time.

It was always going to be the first place Tim went when they came back to Gotham, if only for the sake of his own morbid curiosity.

Tim unclenched his fists and placed one foot on the first step that led up to the library. The first step was always the hardest, so once it was done, he quickly jogged up the rest of them until he was standing in front of the double doors of the library. The glare of the sun reflected off the glass, so he couldn’t see inside.

Just as Tim reached down to open the door, someone opened it from the other side. The door swung open inwards, and the only thing Tim saw before someone collided into him was a stack of books. The surprise of the impact caused Tim to stumble back a few steps, but his unnatural sense of balance kept him on his feet.

The guy who ran into him wasn’t as lucky, he let out a yelp as he fell backwards and the tower of books he’d had in his arms tumbled to the ground.

Tim was moving before he could stop himself, his brain registering what was happening in front of him as a challenge. He darted forward and shoved his hand out, palm up, and caught the first book. He moved his hand slightly to the left, and the second book landed on top of it. He moved the stack of books to the right, catching the third, and then swiveled it back to the middle to catch the forth and final book.

He blinked at the books in his hand now, quickly looking over his shoulder to make sure there was no one behind him to see. He let out a relived sigh when he found no one, and an even greater one when he saw the guy that ran into him was still laying on the ground with his head turned away from Tim.

Tim cleared his throat, “Uh, are you OK?”

The guy sat up, his deep blue eyes widening as he looked at Tim, his cheeks were dusted with a rosy blush, “Physically? Sure. My pride? Not so much.”

The guy pushed himself up from the ground and dusted his hands off before rubbing his palms against the front of his jeans. He was tall, and his dark hair had a slight curl to it. He was maybe a year or two older than Tim himself, though his height and lean frame probably made him look older than that to someone less perceptive than Tim.

“Thanks for picking those up for me.” The guy said, reaching out to grab the books from Tim, “Sorry for not paying attention to where I was going.”

“It’s fine.” Tim smiled, “I’m a bit of a klutz myself.”

Nothing could be further from the truth, but Tim felt like trying to soften the embarrassing blow for the guy.

An older man dressed in a tailored black suit appeared behind the guys shoulder, frowning at the scene in front of him, “Master Jason, how many times have I told you to watch where you’re going?”

The guy, Jason, rubbed the back of his head and cringed, “Sorry, Alf.”

The older man turned to Tim, “I apologize for the young sir’s clumsiness.”

“I already said sorry, Alfred!” Jason groaned.

Tim raised a hand to smother the laugh that almost escaped his lips, “It’s fine, sir. It wasn’t Jason’s fault, there was a glare in the glass, he probably just didn’t see me.”

Jason looked at Tim, blinking rapidly in surprise, and then he smiled, “Uh, yeah! That was it, it was that damn glare, Alfred!”

“Language, Master Jason.” Alfred sighed, like it was something he’d tried to correct daily.

“Oh, shit.” Jason muttered, not loud enough for anyone but Tim to hear, “Sorry.”

Alfred nodded, heading down the steps, “I will go get the car started.”

“Right behind ya, Alf.” Jason said, following him down the stairs.

Tim watched him for a few more seconds, unable to fight the odd amusement he felt seeing someone as proper as Alfred with someone as improper as Jason. Gotham truly was a city where you could see everything.

Jason paused about halfway down the stairs, he turned and waved at Tim, “Hey!”

Tim arched an eyebrow, “Yes?”

“Uh…” Jason trailed off, “I like your shirt!”

That startled a laugh out of Tim, he looked down at his shirt and then back at Jason, “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome!” Jason said, and then stumbled when he saw how far away Alfred was from him, “Yo! Wait up!”

Tim watched as Jason ran down the street, eventually disappearing into the back seat of a black town car. The car folded itself into the traffic, and Tim turned back to face the library once it was out of view. The entire encounter had left him feeling amused, he wasn’t as unsettled about going inside the library now, so maybe it was fate trying to help him out a bit.

It wouldn’t be the first time that some divine force intervened in his life.

With a deep breath, Tim opened the door and stepped inside the library. It was quiet, obviously, and it felt comfortable. There were two levels, stack of books stretched as far back as Tim could see. He walked past the reception desk, trailing his fingers over the dark wooden tables as he walked to the middle of the library.

Tim stopped in his tracks when he came to the glass case in the middle of the library. There was small plaque in front of it, but Tim was more focused on the rather large picture of himself that was placed behind the glass. He took a few steps forward, his eyes still locked on his picture. It was one he didn’t remember taking, he was smiling a real smile, not a forced one, and his hair was swept to the side. He didn’t recognize the outfit he had on, and he barely recognized the face of the boy in the picture. The Timothy in the picture was so pale, owed to the fact that he’d barely spent any time outside. 

They looked almost nothing alike now that the baby fat had melted from his cheeks, let alone now that his hair and eyes were a different color.

The plaque was etched in gold lettering, Tim reverently touched it before taking a deep breath and reading it to himself.

 

**_In loving memory of Timothy Jackson Drake,_ **

**_Timothy loved reading. He was a quiet boy who’d always chose the escape of a good book over almost anything else. The Timothy Drake Memorial Public Library is donated in his honor, so that his love of reading can live on and he can help to touch other people’s lives with the written word._ **

**_The Timothy Drake Memorial Public Library was donated to the city by Timothy’s parents, Jack and Janet Drake, and is funded by Drake Industries._ **

****

Tim felt sick to his stomach. The entire thing felt warped, like it was a perversion of his memory. If anything written was true, it would have said that the only reason Timothy preferred the company of a good book was because it was the only thing he could do that didn’t involve being seen with bruises on his arms. Timothy hadn’t been allowed to go to the pool with his friends, to go out and play in the park, he’d been isolated in his home and the only escape he ever had was getting lost in a story that took him out of his life and let him into the life of someone else.

His parents, his _father_ , had built a shrine of darkness and no one had any idea.

Tim turned his back to the photo of himself, needing to get away from Timothy. The anger inside him was bubbling so violently that Tim didn't think he could stop himself from throwing a chair through the glass case if he looked at it for another second longer. He walked back to the front of the library and stood in line at the reception desk as he waited for one of the workers to open up. An older woman waved him forward after a few minutes of waiting.

“Good morning,” she smiled, “how can I help you.”

Tim managed an unconvincing smile, “I’d like to sign up for a library card.”

The woman’s smile grew even bigger, “How exciting! Can I have your name to start the application?”

“Tim Kyle.” Tim said.

The woman typed it into the computer, “Tim Kyle, got it. Now, is Tim short for anything?”

Tim shook his head, “No. It’s just Tim.”

 

^ ^

 

“Are you ready, Kitten?” Selina asked from her spot leaned against the door frame of his closet.

She was already dressed in her suit, though her goggles hung around her neck and her cowl still wasn’t pulled up. She was also missing her whip, but Tim assumed it was sitting by the elevator. While she waited for Tim to answer, she plucked a pen of eyeliner from one of the shelves and started applying it without a mirror.

It turned out impeccable, because of course it did.

“Yeah,” Tim said, “I’m ready.”

Selina smiled and nodded towards the island in the middle of the closet. Tim walked over to it, ran his hand across the smooth surface, and then splayed his palm down onto the middle of it. It began to beep immediately, a red laser light running under the surface below his palm to verify his identity. A whirring sound kicked in a moment later, and the seamless island in front of him split open to reveal a hidden compartment.

The island split in half, and a gleaming metal cabinet rose out of the floor in its place. Tim stared at it in fascination, he’d never actually seen it in operation before today. All Selina told him is that he’d get a kick out of seeing it, and damn if she wasn’t right.

Tim punched the code into the keypad of the metal locker, and it unlocked with a hollow thunk. He reached out and slowly opened the door, drawing in a sharp intake of breath when he saw his suit staring back at him. He’d only worn the official final version of it once, just to make sure everything fit correctly and worked the way it was supposed to. He’d spent the last few years training in various prototypes he’d designed, but they all paled in comparison to the real thing in front of him.

The full body suit wasn’t completely black like Selina’s, it was created from a lightweight, stab and slash proof fiber that was woven together to give the appearance of leather. It had a ridged texture in places that were a slightly lighter shade of black compared to the rest of the suit to make it harder for people to grab onto him, and while it wasn’t bulletproof, it would still protect him a hell of a lot more than a simple leather suit would. Selina was so impressed by his yearlong research endeavor of looking for top of the line protective fibers that she changed her own suit, though it sill looked almost exactly like Catwoman’s old suit.

His belt was simple, though each of the reinforced pouches held useful tech devices he may need in the field. He’d stocked himself with everything he could think of to break locks, hack computers from up close and from a distance, overwrite security cameras, and even a small localized EMP for when they just needed to fucking shut everything down around them.

His gloves were solid, thick enough to withstand free climbing and hand-to-hand combat. The flexible alloy claws sat comfortably along the tops of his fingers until they were deployed by a specific gesture, when they would pop out through the nearly invisible slits in the tips of the glove’s fingers. Both his wrists also had gauntlets, unlike Selina’s. The gauntlets held the grappling cords he might need since Tim didn’t quite trust himself to use a whip as expertly as Selina. They also provided increased protection if he ever got into a fight, and Selina was pro anything that stopped Tim from getting his ass kicked.

The boots he designed were one of Tim’s favorite parts of the suit. They were made from a combination of leather and the weaved material of the body suit, they came up to his thigh, and they were heavy enough to add extra power to any kick. The small, two-inch heel of the boot even held a special surprise if he ever found himself in a pinch.

The mask was the final piece of his costume, and the biggest point of contention with Selina. She’d wanted him to wear a cowl or hood similar to the one she did, but Tim didn’t like the feeling of restriction that either of those options gave him. The times he’d tried to go out with her in any type of cowl had ended in disaster, it was like covering up his ears threw off the rest of his senses. It took months of explanations and prototypes to get Selina to agree, but she finally relented with Tim came to her with a working model of what his mask would be.

The mask itself was made of a thick, weather resistant rubber material. It was wide enough that it covered his face from just above his brows down to the tip of his nose. The eye holes were a little wider, so they didn’t cut off his peripheral vision, but he’d fill the free space in with heavy black makeup. The mask was attached to a sort of headband that both of Tim’s ‘cat ears’ extended from. The ears themselves were actually Tim’s modified version of Selina’s goggles. They were attached to the mask on a headband with a swivel, so he could pull them down and fit them over his mask to activate infrared or night vision, or even use them to magnify his normal view.  Tim suspected the novelty of making his cat ears such an integral part of his costume was part of the reason she relented in the end.

“I’ll give you a moment to change.” Selina said, smiling as she closed the door to the closet.

Tim took a deep breath, pulled off his shirt, pants, and pulled on a pair of compression tights before pulling the bodysuit out of the locker and unzipping it. The zipper ran from the neck to the just below his bellybutton, so he stepped into the suit as carefully as he could and pulled it up around his legs, adjusting himself until he was comfortable enough to slide his body into the top half. He threaded his arms into sleeves, and rolled his shoulders to settle the suit along his back. Once he was comfortable, he grabbed the zipper and slowly pulled it up his body until he was completely zipped into the suit. He grabbed the belt off the hook and circled it around his waist, locking it together with a snap.

The beauty of the suit was that it wasn’t nearly as restrictive as it looked. The material of the suit worked with him as he moved, not against him like a tighter, stiffer material might have. It added fluidity to his movements, it was more of a second skin than a simple body suit.

The gloves were next, he pulled them on and made sure they were as secure as they possibly could be before he slid the gauntlets over his wrist and locked them into place. He flexed his fingers, flicking them to test his claws. They popped out with a satisfying snick, and Tim clicked them together like a bad B-movie villain before flicking his fingers again to retract them.

Tim grabbed the boots out of the locker and unzipped them, sliding his legs into them one at a time. He was glad that Selina had convinced him to use a narrower heel instead of the wider, chunkier one that he was originally going with. He’d found that the thinner heel actually helped his balance and speed rather than hinder it like he’d expected it to. With the boots zipped up, there was only one part of the costume left to put on.

Tim grabbed the mask from the mannequin head inside the locker and walked over to the new mirror in his closet. He looked at his reflection, his blonde hair was slicked backwards, held down with heavy hair product, and he’d already filled the area around his eyes in with dark makeup. His colored contacts were out, so his natural blue eyes stared back at him. He pulled out a can of gentle spray adhesive and coated the back of the mask so the entire contraption would stay on his face no matter what.  

Tim took a deep breath, then put on the mask. The headband with his goggles/ears sat perfectly in the middle of his head, and the mask covered his face exactly how it was supposed to. He pressed it in with a gentle push, just enough pressure to make sure the naturally formulated adhesive secured itself to his skin but not his eyebrows. He reached back and pulled a thin chord from behind the mask, pulling it around the back of his head and attaching it to the side for extra protection. The chord was thin enough that he could tuck it behind the longer slicked back hair on the back of his head.

Stay looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes raking down his body. He felt powerful, more in control than he’d maybe ever felt. His body was buzzing with anticipation, his nerves were firing on all cylinders as he took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror. He made one final stop at the storage locker, opening a drawer at the foot of it and pulling out a lightweight metal chain that was a little more than half the length of his body. He wrapped the chain around his waist, snapping the two ends together and settling it over his utility belt. It was another one of his surprises that might come in handy tonight.

Stray opened the door to his closet and found Catwoman sitting on the edge of his bed with Miss Kitty on her lap. She looked up at Stray and smiled, it was one of her softer ones, ones that she only ever gave in private.

“You look beautiful, my little Stray.”

Stray felt his cheeks heat, but most of the blush was thankfully covered by his mask. Miss Kitty hopped down from Catwoman’s lap and pranced over to him, winding between his legs and purring.  Stray reached down and ran a hand under his chin, feeling her throat rumble even through the thick material of his gloves.

“Are you ready?” Catwoman asked.

Stray nodded, “Are you sure he’s going to be there?”

Catwoman’s answering smile was less kind, and entirely more feral, “I’m positive, Kitten. There’s no way Batman wouldn’t have an eye on the museum tonight, not when he knows that Catwoman is back in town for the first time in two months. If we’re lucky, he’ll even bring Robin.”

"Alright then.” Stray smiled, anticipation building in his chest like a pounding drum line, “Let’s go introduce me to Batman.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious [this](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/robert-graham-limited-edition-floral-print-shirt-prod209040160?childItemId=NMN5B10_&navpath=cat000000_cat000470_cat14120827_cat21150732&page=0&position=42&uuid=PDP_PAGINATION_035fd083e6d81003eb39514b1b19a896_vD8bLicKBrReIjTYpIu1ioV0) is the shirt Tim was wearing when Jason complimented him. i want it very badly. Tim's stray suit it modeled after Selina's suit in The Dark Knight Rises because I legitimately love it and then it's a really cool take on it, and I'm obsessed with the goggle/ears even though some people hated them. I'm also really into the idea of Tim with blonde hair.
> 
> Next chapter: Stray: Year One


	3. Stray: Year One

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

Stray: Year One

 

Stray perched himself on a stone gargoyle, his leg dangling close to dangerously pointed teeth. He surveyed the layout of the Gotham Metropolitan Art Museum from above, noting any entry and exit points he could see from this angle. He tapped the edge of his left gauntlet, and a small reinforced panel opened up, revealing a concealed palm size tablet in it. He swiped through a few screens, his fingers tapping intently while Catwoman watched him from behind.  She was letting him do more than he’d ever done, the weight of it even greater because they were finally on their first job together in Gotham, and they were finally Catwoman and Stray, not Catwoman and the sneaky kid in the black hoodie who trailed after her in the shadows.

“Here they are.” Stray said, holding his arm up to show Catwoman the blueprints to the museum, “You’ve robbed this museum like thirty times, do you really need the blueprints?”

Catwoman smiled, sliding next to him on the gargoyle, “This isn’t about me, kitten. You’ve never broken into the museum, therefore…”

Catwoman trailed off, waving a hand towards the blueprints on the screen. Right. Tonight was his show, it was his chance to show Catwoman everything she’d taught him hadn’t been in vain. Well, that wasn’t right. Stray knew Catwoman wouldn’t be disappointed in him if he failed epically, and he knew she’d never kick him out if he turned out to be a flop of a sidekick. But Stray didn’t want to fail, he wanted to prove to himself that he could do this, that he was so much better than the dead boy that Catwoman found years ago.

“OK,” Stray began, “according to your recon last night, the jewels have been unloaded from the transport and set up for the display that’s being unveiled tomorrow night. The stars of the show are in the atrium of the museum, so that’s where we’ll find the ruby that we’re after.”

The rubie was stolen from a Jewish family by a group of Nazi’s during the Holocaust. Catwoman had been tracking the collection that displayed the finest jewels of Europe for years, but she’d never been able to easily get to them. When she’d found out the collection was being displayed in Gotham as part of a charity fundraiser set up by Wayne Enterprises, she couldn’t resist. Stray had seen the twinkle in her eye every time she talked about it, so he’d decided he was finally ready to return to the city.

“We’ve got a small window of opportunity to get this done with the least amount of collateral damage.” Stray said, flicking his finger across the tablet as it scrolled through the camera feeds of the museum, “You’d think a place that has been broken into as many times as the museum has would learn to upgrade it’s cyber security. It was laughably easy to hack into their camera systems.”

“You’d think.” Catwoman laughed, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that people never learn.”

“That’s deep.” Stray hummed, smiling as Selina flicked the ears on his head, “The guards are set for a shift change in soon, we’ll have a window of about two and a half minutes where the outside alarms are turned off so they new shift can come in. That’s when we’ll make our move.”

Stray reached down and picked up the small pouch that was hanging off the ear of the gargoyle. The black satin bag swayed back and forth as it dangled off his finger, he flipped it around and pulled out another gleaming red ruby. It glittered under the moonlight as Stray tossed it up into the air and caught it again as it came back down. It was a perfect forgery, something that would go unnoticed unless someone decided to inspect it as close as they possibly could. And even if they did, it would be far too late. The original ruby would be gone, returned to the ancestors of the only family who had a rightful claim to it.

That’s what surprised Stray most about Catwoman. Everyone knew Catwoman was a thief, and he’d assumed just as everyone else that Catwoman was only in it for the money. She always targeted art galleries, jewelry stores and exhibits, but never any banks. Catwoman sometimes worked for other people, stealing valuable items in exchange for payment, and sometimes she just stole for fun because she wanted an original Rembrandt painting to display over her bed.  

Other times, Catwoman stole from people who didn’t deserve what they had. She stole from people who stole from others, using two wrongs to make a right. He’d seen first hand when an old woman broke down in tears after Catwoman returned the incredible pendant her late husband have given to her twenty years prior after it was stolen in a home invasion.

Stray liked to call her Robin Hood sometimes, but only behind her back. The first time she’d heard him call her that she glared at him angrily and then made him change the litter box for a week.

“We’ll get in, get the ruby, and then get it to your contact at the docks.” Stray smiled, “The ruby will be on a plane to Poland before the sun comes up.”

“Excellent work, Stray.” Catwoman’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, “Are we ready to start the timer?”

Stray nodded, he stood up on the gargoyle and attached the satin bag to his belt, securing it in place so it wouldn’t slip. They needed to get inside, switch out the rubies, and out before anyone saw exactly what they were stealing. Stray’s finger hovered over the screen of his tablet, her looked at Catwoman, she nodded, and Tim started the timer.

They had two minutes to get to the ground, loop the cameras, and get inside the building. Catwoman dove from the gargoyle, straightening her body to build up momentum as she fell. Stray watched her as she moved through the air like an arrow, and then the flash off black as she undid her whip from around her waist and flicked it towards the fire escapes closest to her. She pulled on her whip, the elasticity of her whip acting as a sort of rubber band that propelled her upwards like she was fired from a slingshot. She backflipped in the air, then landed on the roof across the street.

Stray worked a little differently. He didn’t have the skill for the whip like Catwoman did, so he opted for the more traditional vigilante form of transportation. He backed up a few feet, and then took a running start before leaping off the gargoyle. He felt the wind rushing past him as he moved forward through the air, smiling at the sheer intensity of the feeling. He moved silently, no cape to billow behind him and cause any sound. As soon as Stray felt his body start to drop, he reached out with his right arm and triggered the grappling line inside his gauntlet. The thin line shot out with a soft thud, and Stray felt the pull of it when it hit its target. His fall slowed and then he was swinging across the gap between the buildings instead of falling. The mechanism inside his gauntlet engaged, and it began to zip him upwards towards the ledge of the roof. A few feet from the top, Stray twisted his wrist so the grapple hook itself would release from the roof, it coiled back into his gauntlet, and the moment from his rapid ascension carried him the rest of the way. Stray’s glove pressed against the edge of the roof when he reached it, and he used his muscles to vault himself up the rest of the way.

It wasn’t as stylish as Catwoman’s, but it was still a hell of a lot of fun.

“Time?” Catwoman asked, already sprinting for the far edge of the roof.

Stray looked down at the timer on his tablet as he ran, “A minute and a half.”

“We’re ahead then.” Catwoman grinned as she flung herself from the side of the building.

Catwoman leapt forward, landing on a sturdy branch of the large tree directly across from the roof they were on. Stray followed after her, landing on the branch just below the one Catwoman was on. Catwoman rapidly dropped down from branch to branch, finally deciding to abandon the slower descent and just jump from the tree all together.

Stray jumped up, grabbing the branch above him and swinging himself back and forth until he picked up enough momentum to safely throw himself from the tree. He crashed through the leaves after letting go, flipped once in the air, and landed on his feet next to Catwoman.

Catwoman rolled her eyes, smiling fondly, “Showoff.”

Stray couldn’t deny it. It was so rare that he got to put his abilities to use at their fullest extent. He was operating at full capacity tonight, and he could feel the thrum of energy inside him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

“One minute and ten seconds.” Stray whispered, his voice low as they moved through the shadows of the perimeter of the museum, “The relay box is up ahead and to the right.”

Catwoman nodded, falling back to let Stray take the lead. Stray moved through the courtyard, keeping a collection of the courtyard cameras open on his tablet to make sure they weren’t seen on any of them. They reached the relay box with fifty seconds left, so Stray extended a single claw, picked the lock with it, and popped the box open. He concentrated to find the correct set of wires, and then quickly pulled a small electronic chip from a pouch on his belt.

Stray held the chip with one hand, and sliced the wires with a clawed finger on the other. And then, almost impossibly fast, Stray shoved the small chip between the frayed part of the wires. They connected instantly, and the chip began to glow a dull blue color. The camera feeds on his tablet blipped for half a second, and then began to loop the last ten seconds of footage repeatedly.

“Are we good to go?” Catwoman asked with thirty seconds left on the clock.

Stray watched the cameras intently for any sign of something that would give away the looped feed, but everything looked perfect. With twenty seconds left, Stray nodded.

“Let’s go.” Stray climbed on top of the relax box, opened the airduct next to it, and slipped his body inside.

He could feel Catwoman slide behind him, and they began their silent crawl into the museum. Stray had the other side of the grate open, and they dropped onto the floor inside the museum just as the silent timer on his tablet began to buzz.

“We did it.” Stray smiled, “We actually did it!”

“You did it.” Catwoman whispered, patting him on top of the head, “You were brilliant, kitten.”

Stray started down the hallway, Catwoman following after him, “Now that they’ve brought the new shift in, they’ve turned the perimeter alarms back on. We’ve got about five minutes while the shift change over is finalized to get to the ruby, swap it out, and get back into position to leave when they cut the perimeter alarms for the previous shift to leave.”

“Let’s get a move on then.” Catwoman said.

Stray kept the lead as the moved from shadow to shadow through the halls of the museum. He could hear mumbled speech in the distance, he kept an ear out for any guards signaling that they were going to take up their post early. Stray had hacked into the museum’s network before they’d even come back to Gotham, he’d spent about a week watching the nighttime routines of the guards, which is how he came up with his ten-minute timetable.

Stray double checked the map on his tablet, the blinking red dot that showed their location flashed back at him, “The atrium is two rooms ahead and to the right.”

“Correct.” Catwoman hummed.

“Right, you already knew that.” Stray felt embarrassed.

“Pretend I didn’t,” Catwoman said, smiling “I got struck by a terrible toxin from some up-and-coming menace and it wiped all my memories of the museums layout.”

Stray rolled his eyes, “That’s a pretty specific toxin.”

“Like I said, an absolute _menace_.” Catwoman laughed, “You’re doing great, kitten. Keep going, we’re almost done.”

Tim preened quietly as they walked down the hall. It always made him feel good to get a compliment from Catwoman, especially when he was doubting himself. Stray rounded the corner into the atrium and stopped in his tracks.

The entire display for the jewel collection was set up, it was spread out across the floor, directly under the reinforced glass skylights that spanned the top of the room. Moonlight shone through the windows, hitting the jewels, and causing them to glitter every time Stray turned his head. Sitting in the middle of the display was what they came for, the four-pound ruby was displayed in an open-air case on a bed of black satin.

None of the jewels were enclosed in cases, they were just sitting on pedestals separated off from the rest of the room by velvet ropes. Stray recalled reading something about seeing the gems up close and personal for the price of a premium ticket, so they were probably going for the forbidden fruit idea with the display.

Look, but don’t touch.

“I swear, the curators here get dumber and dumber every year.” Catwoman sighed, “They could at least make this a challenge for us.”

“Don’t write them off yet.” Stray said, “They’ve probably upped the infrared protection since the jewels aren’t inside glass cases.”

Stray kept a healthy distance from the display, just barely lingering outside of the archway that led into the atrium. He reached up towards the ears on his head, and pushed them down to his eyes so they became his goggles. He tapped the side, flicking through a few different settings, until he got to the setting that would allow him to see infrared beams. Sure enough, the second the lenses on the googles changed, the room lit up like a Christmas tree.

Each display was surrounded by a tower of infrared sensors that stretched at least ten feet high. Stray sighed, rocking back on his heels as he looked at the one around the ruby. It was in the shape of a square they looked just barely big enough to fit the display pedestal in, let alone Stray or Catwoman.

“Well, that’s annoying.” Stray huffed.

“Yes, this does complicate things.” Catwoman stared at the lasers through her own goggles, “Time?”

Tim checked the tablet, “Three and a half minutes. Any idea?”

Catwoman crossed her arms over her chest, “A few. What about you?”

“Um…” Stray started to walk the perimeter of the room to get a feel for the angles he would be working with, “Maybe?”

If the height of the lasers were a little shorter, Stray could probably jump it from the ground. They’d measured him once, and he could clear five and a half feet straight up from a resting position, and close to eight with a running start. Neither of those would get him over the tower of lasers. There was a balcony that overlooked the atrium though, the lasers extended up even past it, but Stray had a plan.

“The balcony.” Stray pointed up at it, “If I get a running start, I can vault myself up over the railing and then drop down though the lasers.”

“Interesting.” Selina hummed, “Where do you plan to land? There’s not enough room on the floor.”

Stray tapped the edge of his goggles, magnifying the view of the ruby, “I can land _on_ the display pedestal, drop the replacement ruby, and then you dangle yourself from one of the beams on the ceiling, drop me your whip, and pull me up.”

Catwoman considered it for a second, stepping a bit closer to the display, “Not exactly how I would have done it, but I like it. You get points for creativity. Time?”

“Two minutes and fifty seconds.” Stray headed for the stairs to the balcony, “Let’s hurry.”

“Lead the way, my little Stray.” Catwoman followed after him.

They made it up the stairs quickly, and Stray was relived to see that the upper level was free of any infrared tripwires. He stood at the railing, pushing himself up on top of it so he could memorize the angle he’d need to get himself to. It shouldn't be too hard, at least in theory.

“Ready?” Catwoman asked.

Stray looked down at the timer, “It’s now or never.”

Stray walked back to the opposite edge of the balcony, flush with the wall, and then bolted forward. He was always surprised at how fast he could run, but the thought was over before he’d even had it. He jumped when he was about half a foot away from the balcony, and the center of his foot landed perfectly on the black bar. He crouched a bit, giving himself some leverage, and then pushed off into the air. The rest of the maneuver rushed past him, he flipped once in the air, and then straightened his body out so he fell vertically though the narrow tower of lasers. His legs spread apart slightly before his impact, and he landed on the center of the display podium with the ruby directly between his feet.

“Holy shit,” Stray whispered, “I actually did it.”

“It was very impressive,” Catwoman said, dangling above him from the rafters, “but we do have to move, Kitten.”

“Right.” Stray nodded to himself, unhooking the velvet bag from his waist. He pulled out the imposter ruby and crouched just above the real one, the transition would have to be lightning quick so no sensors were set off. He shifted his foot slightly, pressing his heel down onto the sensor at the same exact moment he lifted the real ruby into his hands.

The difference between them was almost non-existent. They were the same weight, the same size, the same dimensions. Stray dropped the real ruby into the bag, and then moved his heel off the sensor at the same exact time he placed the fake ruby onto it.

“Done.” Stray said, looking up at Catwoman.

Catwoman unfurled her whip, it stopped just a few feet above him. Stray crouched again, and then jumped for the whip. He wrapped the end of the whip around his hand, and Catwoman jerked him upwards with all her strength. As soon as he cleared the top of the laser tower, he used the momentum to swing himself back towards the balcony. He let go when he got close enough, and Catwoman landed behind him a moment later.

Stray checked the time, “Fifty-eight seconds.”

“Let’s go celebrate.” Catwoman clapped him on the back, “I believe we have a date with a Bat and a Bird.”

Stray followed behind her as they ran towards the same air duct they came in, “If they even show up.”

“They’ll show up,” Catwoman looked over her shoulder with a grin, “the trick is making sure they don’t know what we stole.”

They made it back to the air duct with fifteen seconds to spare. Stray entered first, and Catwoman followed behind him. Once the alarm went off that told him the perimeter alarm was deactivated again, Stray popped open the duct and crawled back outside. He dropped down on top of the same relay box as before, pried it open with his claw again, and retrieved his tech. He made sure to patch the wires back together so the true feed from the cameras would start playing again.

When they reached the area just outside the museum’s vicinity, Catwoman turned to Stray, “Excellent work tonight. Your ideas were very creative.”

“Thanks.” Stray could feel himself starting to blush, “It wasn’t anything amazing though.”

“Kitten, how many times have I told you to stop downplaying your successes?” Catwoman said softly, “You spent weeks planning this, you analyzed hours of security footage, hacked into computers and cameras, and set up special tech that I never would have had a chance to figure out myself. You made this job ten time easier than it would have been if I was on my own.”

Stray looked up at her bashfully, feeling like a child for even thinking about the question that was on the tip of his tongue.

“So you’re not going to decide that I’m a garbage partner and take this suit away from me after tonight?” Stray mumbled, embarrassment lancing through him.

Catwoman looked stricken, “Stray, have I ever made you feel like that was the case?”

Stray shook his head rapidly, “No! God, no. Never. It’s just…it feels too good to be true sometimes.”

“I understand.” Catwoman said softly, she pulled him into a hug, “I promise you that you’re stuck with me. You will be Stray for as long as you want to be, and even if you decide to stop being him, you will always be my little Kitten.”

Stray blinked at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. It was one thing thinking you knew something, and it was another thing to hear it out loud. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and eventually Stray took a deep breath.

Nodding, “OK. We still have to make it to the docks, right?”

“Yes.” Catwoman said, “This is where the night gets fun.”

Catwoman and Stray scaled the building next to them, stopping on the top of the same roof they were on before they broke into the museum. Catwoman reached over to the gargoyle and pulled a cylindrical plastic tube out of its mouth. It was just big enough to fit a stolen painting, if that had been what they were after in the first place.

Stray kept the ruby strapped to him, and Catwoman slung the canister over her shoulder. They walked to the edge of the roof, and Stray went left as Catwoman went right. He’d trail her from the other side of the street, only intervening when, or if, Batman decided to show.

Personally, Stray thought it was a bit dramatic, but Catwoman did love her drama when it came to Batman.

“Be ready to pounce, Kitten.” Catwoman’s voice whispered from across the street, “I can hear him coming.”

Catwoman lingered on the edge of the roof she was currently one, so Stray tucked himself away in the corner of his. He tipped his head to the side, trying to pick up what Catwoman did, and then he heard it. It was subtle, almost something he’d overlook if he wasn’t specifically searching for it. He could hear the sound of fabric billowing in the wind, like a cape blowing behind someone as they glided through the air.

Sure enough, Stray looked up a moment later so see the silhouette of a Bat glide in front of the full moon. Batman pulled the cape closed and rocketed down to the rooftop across from Catwoman. Stray watched them, almost laughing at how insane they both looked.

“Catwoman,” Batman said, his voice gruff, “you’re back.”

Catwoman cocked her head to the side, “Did you miss me? It’s only been two months since we last saw each other.”

“Where were you?” Batman asked, standing completely still.

“Let’s see,” Catwoman hummed, “First there was Paris, then Rome, and then Greece where I spent a week laying on the beach working on getting rid of those pesky tan lines. Do you want to see?”

“Gag me.” Stray whispered.

“What’s in the case?” Batman pointed to the canister slung over Catwoman’s shoulder.

“Something valuable, I should hope.” Catwoman smiled, “Something that will be staying with me.”

“Catwoman.” Batman gruffed, “Give it back, and I’ll let you go.”

“As opposed to all the other times you’ve caught me?” Catwoman deadpanned, taking a step back towards the edge roof.

Before Catwoman could move again, Batman’s cape flew up behind him as he launched a batarang towards the cylinder. Catwoman spun out of the way, but the batarang hit the strap of the canister.

“Now that’s just rude.” Catwoman sighed, “I guess we’re doing this the hard way then.”

Stray heard the distinct sound of Catwoman’s claws extending, and he watched as they glinted under the moonlight when she slashed at Batman. She’d told Stray once that she never fought to seriously injure when she went against Batman, she just liked leaving a few marks for him to remember her by.

Batman dodged a swipe of her claws, and caught Catwoman’s arm, pulling her down towards the ground. Catwoman dropped to one knee, sweeping her let out under Batman. Batman was surprised by the movement, it tripped him up and bought Catwoman enough time to pull her arm free and deliver a kick to the center of Batman’s chest.

Catwoman rolled backwards into a cartwheel, grabbing the canister as she stood. She dangled it by the broken strap, waving it in front of Batman like a dog with a treat. Batman lunged for the canister, and Catwoman tossed it in the air. She went to jump over Batman for it, but he read her move before she made it and tackled her to the ground. The canister fell back down to the roof, rolling across it until it was near the edge.

“Well, this is unfortunate.” Catwoman huffed.

“Give it up, Catwoman.” Batman’s voice sounded a little too husky for Stray’s liking.

“Why should I when we’re about to have so much more fun?” Catwoman winked, “Here kitty, kitty.”

Stray moved at the sound of the signal. He dropped off the edge of his roof, landing on his feet, before he darted across the street in the shadows. He flicked his fingers, popping his claws out, and used them to scale the building in front of him. It was easy enough, a newer brick building that lacked the same construction as some of the other ones made it easy for him to find enough purchase to quickly climb to the top.

“I’m not scared of your cats, Catwoman.” Batman said, almost sounding like a sigh.

Stray pushed himself over the edge, scooping up the canister in the middle of his backflip, he landed about fifteen feet away from Batman, “You should be.”

Batman froze, tension shooting through his shoulders immediately. He all but ignored Catwoman to spin out and stare at Stray.

“Who are you?” Batman demanded, Stray could feel the eyes hidden by the lenses in Batman’s cowl raking over him.

“Did I forget to tell you?” Catwoman laughed, “I picked up a Stray.”

“It was nice meeting you, but I’ve got to run.” Stray said as politely as he possibly could, “Places to be, things to steal. You know how it is, right?”

Batman moved forward, but Stray was already falling backwards off the roof. Halfway down, Stray raised his arm and fired his grapple behind himself, rocketing him up onto the next roof. He turn and ran as soon as his feet his solid ground, but he could hear the sound of Batman and Catwoman arguing in the background as he made his escape.

“Robin!” Batman’s voice boomed.

Stray heard the sound of boots hitting the roof behind him, and a cape billowing in the wind as he ran. Batman was occupied by Catwoman, which meant that Robin was after him. Stray looked over his shoulder, swerving to the side when he caught a flash of red, green, and yellow throwing itself at him.

“Ah, ah.” Stray taunted, “Hands off the merchandise.”

Stray vaulted from the rooftop, flipping in the air as he got closer to the ground. He hit the ground running, literally, and shot off down the middle of the empty street. Stray looked up at the sound of someone swooping overhead, and then Robin landed in front of him in the street.

Robin stood there, both hands on his hips, and glared at Stray. His hair was messy, like he’d tried to tame it, but had eventually given up during the night of flying through the air and skulking in dark corners. He wore green pants with yellow accents up the side, and the yellow R on his chest stood out against a red top that gave way to green sleeves on his upper arms. His cape was almost blindingly yellow, and the domino mask on his face with a deep red color.

“Robin.” Stray said, cocking his hip, “You’re wearing pants.”

Robin glared at him, “That stopped being funny years ago.”

His voice was surprisingly deep, it threw Stray’s estimated age off. He’d originally thought Robin was close to his age, maybe a little younger, but the deep voice and his muscled frame was pushing him up in the age bracket.

“Give me whatever Catwoman stole and I’ll let you walk out of here.” Robin’s mouth was a grim line.

Stray stepped back, offended, “Why do you assume _Catwoman_ was the one who stole it?”

Robin sighed, his imposing façade breaking a bit, “Just give it back, OK? It’s been a long night.”

“Well, since you asked nicely.” Stray smiled, flipping the canister around in his hand and holding it out towards Robin.

Robin stared at the canister in disbelief for a few seconds, but then coughed and squared his shoulders before stepping forward to grab it. Stray grinned, the moment Robin got close enough, he stepped forward and flicked his wrist, lightly smacking Robin across the face with the plastic canister.

Robin reeled back, swatting at the air, his jaw dropped, “Did you seriously just…”

Stray coked his head to the side, “You honestly thought I would just give it back to you?”

Stray didn’t wait for Robin to answer, he lifted his right arm and fired off his grapple into the building behind Robin. He was zipped off the ground before Robin could react, and Stray laughed to himself when he heard a muffled stream of curse words as Robin fumbled for his own grapple gun. Stray was even happier he’d decided to build his grapple into his costume, it avoided wasting precious seconds he’d otherwise lose if he had to pull and aim a secondary piece of equipment.

He did a cartwheel with one hand once the grapple released him onto the roof, just to show off for Robin. Robin was still in the air by the time Stray jumped across to the next rooftop, and Stray couldn’t deny he was having fun messing with him. It was a reverse cat and mouse chase, and Stray was starting to understand why Catwoman loved messing with Batman so much.

Still, it was getting late, and Stray would like to at least get a few hours of sleep before the sun decided to wake him. He skidded to a stop at the edge of the building he was gone, turning with a flourish to face Robin. Robin stopped a few feet away from him, and Stray could hear the deep breaths of air he was struggling to pull in.

“Ha!” Robin said between breaths, “I caught you!”

“Sure, if that helps you sleep at night.” Stray smiled.

“Dude, you’re a dick.” Robin glared at him, “Who _are_ you?”

“Me?” Stray danced along the ledge of the building, flaunting his abilities in front of Robin, “I’m Stray.”

“Stray?” Robin repeated, “Ain’t that what they call annoying animals that no one wants?”

Stray stopped moving immediately, the blunt dismissiveness of Robin’s voice making him flinch. He’d chosen the name himself after Catwoman called him it with affection, but Robin’s words reminded Stray that he technically was something that no one wanted, or at least only wanted to use as a punching bag.

“Yo, earth to Catlad.” Robin waved, a cocky grin on his face.

“Fuck you!” Stray spat, feeling his anger suddenly start to bubble up.

“Ouch!” Robin laughed, “Did I hit a nerve?”

“You don’t know me.” Stray glared at him.

“I think I do.” Robin shrugged, “I mean, you’re probably just some lost little kid who decided it would be fun to be bad for a little bit. What? Did mommy and daddy not give you enough attention, so you had to find the first criminal willing to slap a mask on your face and make you their little _pet_ project?”

“Shut up!” Stray’s anger was coiling in his gut now.

He could hear Catwoman’s voice in his head telling him to calm down. They’d worked on it extensively, Stray’s penchant for exploding when someone poked at his weaknesses. He thought he would be fine, but he hadn’t expected Robin to be so vicious with him.

Robin lung for him, as if he sensed that Stray was thrown. Luckily, Stray’s reflexes were almost automatic at this point, so he spun just in time to dodge Robin’s elbow to his forehead. He decided to channel his anger into something more productive, so he tossed the canister to the side of the roof and turned to face Robin.

Robin dove at him again, his fist cocked back and ready to strike. Stray jumped to the side, rolling headfirst and landing behind Robin. Stray kicked out backwards, his heel impacting the back of Robin’s knee. Robin let out a yelp as he crumpled to the ground, and Stray jumped up and waited for him to stand.

“I am so going to kick your ass now.” Robin growled.

“Try me.” Stray said, unlinking the meal chain from around his waist.

Robin eyed the chain, “That supposed to be your whip, Kitty Cat?”

“Something like that.” Stray smirked, he lunged forward and flicked his wrist so the chain would go flying towards Robin.

Robin raised his hand, batting the chain away with the back of his thick glove. Stray pulled the chain back to him, and then pressed the small button on the end of the hand grip. The chain immediately pulled itself taut, the small pieces of metal all snapping and locking together to form a long bo staff. Stray laughed at the shocked look on Robin’s face as he spun the staff around in his hand, tossed it in the air, and then caught it as it fell. He assumed a fighting stance just as Robin rushed him again.

Stray flicked his staff upwards, catching Robin off guard. He barely had time to react, but Robin still managed to block most of the blow with his gauntlet. Stray flipped the staff, striking at Robin’s leg while his brain was occupied on defending his upper body.

“Fuck!” Robin cursed staggering backwards and hopping on one foot.

Stray raised his hand, extending his claws, “I can use these if you prefer.”

Robin glared at him, “You’re a fuckin’ psycho.”

“Well, you know what they say about Strays.” Stray stared at him, “Sometimes they bite.”

Just as Stay was about to go back for another round with Robin, he heard Catwoman’s voice from somewhere nearby, “I think we’ve had enough fun for the night, Batman is on his way to collect his little bird.”

“Coming.” Tim said, looking back at a confused Robin, “Look, it’s been fun, but I’ve gotta go.”

Stray walked over to the canister and scooped it up, then flung it at Robin without saying anything. Robin flailed, fumbling the container in his hands as he tried to catch it. Stray groaned, rolling his eyes as Robin stumbled.

“Seriously?” Robin looked dubious.

“Take it.” Stray shrugged, “I don’t need it anymore.”

“Is there a bomb in here?” Robin asked, arching his eyebrow.

“Really?” Stray deadpanned, “I’m not The Joker.”

Stray backed up to the edge of the roof as Robin unscrewed the top of the canister off. He watched with an amused tilt of his head as Robin pulled the thick canvas out of the tube and unfurled it. He had to bite back a sharp laugh when Robin’s jaw dropped.

Robin sputtered, flipping around the canvas to show Stray, “Is this supposed to be funny?”

“I think it’s pretty funny.” Stray shrugged.

It was a hastily done drawing, Robin was written in the upper corner of the canvas with an arrow pointing to a drawing of Robin that was clad only in a red mask and boxer shorts with tiny bat symbols all over them. It’d taken Stray all of two minutes to create.

The embarrassed blush on Robin’s cheeks helped a little to sooth the anger Stray felt burning in his chest, but the dull ache was still there. Without another word, Stray flipped off the side of the building and into the shadows, meeting up with Catwoman the next block over.

Her mouth was red, so Stray had a bit of an idea how her encounter went, but she asked, “How did it go?”

Stray thought back to the smug look on Robin’s face when he tried to needle him, his barbs hitting a little too close to home for Stray’s comfort.

Stray frowned, “It could have gone better.”

Catwoman paused, turning to face him, “Do I need to push him off a building.”

“No?” Stray hesitated, imagining the admittedly entertaining visual of Catwoman dropping Robin off the side of a small building, “I mean, maybe if he’ll land on something soft…ish.”

Catwoman tipped her head back and laughed, then circled her arm around Stray’s shoulder with a tight squeeze, “Welcome to the Gotham City nightlife, Stray.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! i look forward to the comments!


	4. Paper Faces on Parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is basically the original idea i had for this fic beyond tim being stray, so i was excited to write it! hope you enjoy it and i look forward to the comments!

 

 

Chapter Four

Paper Faces on Parade

 

“What do you think, Miss Kitty?”

Tim turned to where Miss Kitty was perched on the island in the middle of his closet, she briefly looked up from examining her paw, and then looked away again. Tim huffed out a quiet laugh, dangling the two options in front of her. His left hand held a navy-blue tie with a pattern of small white stars on it, and his right hand held a navy blue bow-tie with simple, elegant silver stipes on it. Miss Kitty looked up at him again, and then her tail swished to the left.

“You’re right.” Tim agreed, “A simple tie is classic, you can never go wrong with it.”

Missy Kitty hopped down from the island, and then slinked her way out of Tim’s closet. He watched her reflection disappear in the mirror and shrugged, then pulled open one of the drawers in the island to find a pair of cufflinks to go with his jacket. His fingers danced over the options until he finally settled on a pair of silver Cartier cufflinks, rectangular in shape with a beautiful blue spinel gem inlaid in the middle. He threaded them through the cuffs of his undershirt, then shrugged on his navy-blue suit jacket before giving himself a final once over in the mirror.

He looked _good_ , which is something he never thought he’d care about before. His blonde hair was swept up and to the side a bit, giving it just enough height to add dimension. He’d touched up his roots earlier in the day, so there was no hint of any color other than the almost platinum blonde. His green contacts contrasted wonderfully against his navy-blue suit, and the jacket was tailored to fit him impeccably. The already slim-fit of the style was brought in even more, giving it the impression that it was a part of his body entirely.

It was almost like his suit as Stray, and in a way, it was the exact same thing. It was one of the harder lessons that Selina had taught him during their first year together, but when they were in public, it was just another costume. Catwoman and Stray prowled the rooftops at night, dressed in the uniform required for the job, armed to the teeth with tools of defense and necessity. In much the same way, Selina and Tim Kyle dressed in the uniform _their_ jobs required, and were armed to the teeth in different, but entirely the same, ways.  

He’d gone to events with Selina overseas, they’d spent a rather long stretch of time in London when they were organizing a robbery and subsequent takedown of a ring of armed thieves in the city, and it felt like there was a different party to go to every weekend. No one looked at Tim differently, wondered why someone so young was mingling with them, because Tim seamlessly wove his way into their tapestries. It was all a test, a grand trial run for when they came back to Gotham.

Selina periodically went back to Gotham during their four years away, mostly to keep up impressions for her civilian life, and then to keep up impressions for Catwoman’s nightlife. Selina never returned at the same time as Catwoman, but they both never went more than three months without showing themselves in the city. Tim spent those times working by himself, or with the bands of people overseas that Selina trusted. He built up his own network of contacts during that time, some introduced to him through Selina, and others he cultivated entirely himself. Stray was Catwoman’s sidekick, but he’d also made it possible that he could exist entirely on his own if he had to.

 Selina had wanted it that way, just in case anything ever happened.

“Tim?” Selina’s voice came from downstairs, “The car is almost here.”

“Almost done.” Tim said, barely raising his voice above a conversational volume.

Tim left the closet, closing the door behind him as he went. He grabbed a few items from his room, slid his wallet in his back pocket, and headed downstairs to meet Selina. The heels of his dress shoes echoed through the apartment as he walked down the marble staircase, and he turned to see Selina inspecting herself in the mirror that was hung directly across from the elevator doors in the apartment.

Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and she wore a navy-blue gown that matched the color of Tim’s suit. The mermaid silhouette dress had a knotted front that flared down into a dramatic tulle skirt that brushed across the floor as Selina walked. The plunging neckline of the dress was so perfectly Selina, including the long, silver diamond encrusted chain that hung down past the dip of the neckline. He tasteful diamond earrings glittered every time sure turned her head, and the sapphire studded, diamond encrusted ,platinum bracelet with two panther heads that met where it looped around her wrist was just on the good side of ironic.

Selina gave him an assessing look, “Very good, kitten.”

“You’re certainly going to turn heads.” Tim smirked.

“We’re going to turn heads.” Selina corrected him, walking over and looping her arm through Tim’s as she pulled him towards the elevator, “Tonight is just as much about you as it is me.”

Tim jammed his thumb into the call button, stepping side ahead of Selina as the doors split open, “The world must be so excited to meet Tim Kyle.”

“I’m going to ignore that awful bit of sarcasm in your voice.” Selina said, lightly flicking him in the ear, “You’re going to knock them dead, they’ll never know what hit them.”

“Interesting phrasing,” Tim smirked, admiring his reflection in the metallic doors of the elevator, “since we’re about to go to an event that we stole from twelve hours ago and they haven’t even realized it.”

“Going back to the scene of the crime when no one has even realized a crime happened _is_ one of life’s greatest joys.” Selina confessed.

“Where do I rank on the list of life’s greatest joys?” Tim rocked back on his heels as he shoved his hands into his pockets as he waited for the elevator to finish its trip.

Selina tipped her head to the side as if she was thinking about it, after a moment, “Above diamonds, but below volunteering at the animal shelter.”

Tim let out a surprised laugh, “I think I’m OK with that.”

The doors to the elevator opened, and Tim stepped out first. It was easier for him to take lead when Selina was in a dress this extravagant, he still felt guilty for the one time when he was twelve and her ripped the train of one of her dresses because he stepped on it while she was walking in front of him. He could see their car out front, a sleek, black limousine that stretched out in front of the building.

“Wow, you look amazing, Tim.”

Tim turned to see who the familiar voice belonged to, and he saw the girl from the other day, Sarah, sitting behind the desk.

Tim smiled back at her, “Thank you, Sarah.”

“You’re welcome.” Sarah’s eyes flickered to Selina, “Oh my goodness, Miss Kyle, you look stunning.”

Selina gave Sarah a smile that rode the border between sweet and predatory surprisingly well, “Thank you very much.”

“Have a good night, Sarah.” Tim nodded at her.

“You too.” Sarah said as they both walked away.

“ _Sarah_ , huh?” Selina’s voice was barely above a whisper, but he could hear the smirk in it.

Tim rolled his eyes, “What? I’m just being nice.”

“She’s certainly interested in more than nice,” Selina hummed, “I know you heard her heartbeat.”

“I honestly don’t think she realizes how much younger then her I am.” Tim shook his head, “And if she does, well, then I feel really creeped out.”

“Tell her you’re excited to start your junior year of high school after the summer is over, and if she still wants to sink her claws into you then I’ll sink _mine_ into her.” Selina’s eyes flashed feral for a second, and she replaced it with her trademark smirk the second they stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Their driver greeted them with a polite smile and opened the door, Tim slid into the limo first, and Selina and her dress followed after him. He stretched out his legs and reached for the bottle of champagne chilling in the ice bucket near him, but Selina batted his hand away.

“That was a one-time deal because it was your birthday.” Selina arched an eyebrow at him.

The divider between the driver and the back of the limo rolled up as they pulled into the flow of traffic, and Tim unbuttoned his jacket as he leaned back, “I’m old enough to commit felony theft, but I’m not old enough to have a glass of champagne.”

Selina made a show of pouring a glass for herself, she tipped the flute back as drained it, giving Tim a wicked look once it was done, “Exactly.”

“You’re the weirdest parent.” Tim laughed, smiling.

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.” Selina refilled her glass.

No. Tim really, really wouldn’t.

The traffic got heavier the closer they got to the museum, and Tim was starting to get uncomfortable being cooped up in an enclosed space for an extended period of time. It was similar to how he felt when he got on a plane, but at least he could get up and walk then.

“You know you are allowed to be interested in people, right?” Selina asked unexpectedly.

“Huh?” Tim cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“I mean, obviously the perverted red head is off limits, but you’re allowed to like someone who’s age appropriate.” Selina said, taking another long drink, “As long as I approve of them, of course.”

‘“I know.” Tim said, “I’m fine just…being me for now. It’s only been a few days anyway.”

Selina nodded, “Just making sure you know you can have friends outside of the criminal element.”

“The _criminal element_.” Tim rolled his eyes, “I know, Selina. I have, or, had, friends who were totally above board. There was Matheus in Brazil, he was a totally normal, non-criminal.”

“Matheus?” Selina tapped her finger against her chin, “Was he the one that you said, and I quote, had _eyes like bars of chocolate that you just wanted to take a bite out of_.”

Tim sputtered, suddenly glad he wasn’t drinking anything because it would have been spat all over the inside of the window, “I…what…who…”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Selina laughed, “He was nice.”

He was nice. He was more than nice. He was funny, kind, and really did have beautiful eyes. He’d kissed Tim for the first time the day before they left Brazil, and it was at the same time the best and most disappointing part of their few months spent in Brazil.

“Anyway,” Tim coughed, changing the subject, “is there anyone _you’re_ excited to see tonight?”

Selina shrugged non-comitial, “Possibly.”

Tim held off his reply as their limo slowed to a stop. He could see the flashing lights of the photographers just outside, cordoned off from the carpet and all dying to get the one perfect shot. A bit of anxiety swelled in his stomach, he’d never been to an event with _press_ before. He trusted Selina with everything, and he knew that if she thought bringing him to this would be fine, then it would be. Tim still couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if someone got the perfect picture, from the perfect angle, that reveled exactly who he was.

A soft touch to his hand drew Tim’s attention, Selina was looking at him with a warm smile, “Take a deep breath, kitten.”

Tim nodded and did what she said. He held it in for a few seconds, then slowly released it.

“We can turn around right now if you want.” Selina said, “Just say the word and we’ll go home.”

The offer was tempting, but they’d worked too hard to give up an opportunity like this.

Tim shook his head, squaring his shoulders, “No. Let’s go.”

The door to the limo opened, and Tim’s eyes were blinded by the flashing cameras. Selina slid her way out first, and then extended a hand to help Tim out of the car. Tim could already hear people calling Selina’s name, and more amusingly, asking who her date was before Tim got out of the car. Tim stood next to Selina, squaring his shoulders, and the crowd went wild.

It was evident when you looked at them that Tim was not Selina’s usual kind of date. Tim could hear murmurs of confusion among the crowd who evidently hadn’t heard that Selina Kyle adopted a child, and the crowed went wild with questions once Selina looped her arm through Tim’s and they began to walk down the black velvet carpet that led up to the front door of the museum.

It was weird being at the museum again, it was only hours ago that he and Selina had run though the building under the cover of darkness, and now they couldn’t be anymore exposed. As they walked down the carpet, Tim noticed a woman with red hair standing at the end of it. She was dressed in a stunning solid black dress, minimal jewelry, and she was holding a thin golden clutch.

“Vicki, how nice to see you again.” Selina said, stopping to talk to the woman once they reached her.

It clicked once Selina said her name, the woman was Vicki Vale, one of the only reporters in Gotham lucky enough to get an exclusive invitation to the event.

“Selina, you look beautiful tonight.” Vicki said, her eyes flickered to Tim, “And who is this lovely young man?”

Selina grinned, “Viki, I’d like to introduce you to my son, Tim.”

Vicki’s eyes went wide for a moment, but she quickly recovered, “I’d heard a rumor going around, but I didn’t actually believe it. It’s nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Vicki Vale.”

“Hello, Miss Vale.” Tim said, nodding his head politely, “You look very lovely tonight.”

“Well, aren’t you a charmer.” Vicki laughed, “How are you enjoying your first big event with Gotham’s elite?”

 Tim admired her gumption, she was equal parts a reporter and a quasi-friend of Selina’s. It wouldn’t hurt for him to make a good first impression with her, it always came in handy to have the press on your side from time to time.

“Honestly?” Tim’s smile faltered, “It’s a bit overwhelming, but it’s really exciting too. I’m really glad I decided to come.”

“Ah, so you wanted to come?” Vicki asked.

Tim nodded, “She was worried I might find it all too much, but I was really excited about it. I’ve never really been to anything like this, so it’s all a first for me.”

“Well, you picked a good event to come to.” Vicki smiled, “Quite a few of the guests brought their children, I think I even saw Bruce Wayne’s youngest son in there, I’m sure you’ll make friends if you’re as charming to them as you are to me.”

Tim managed to blush for her, “I really hope so, Miss Vale.”

“Please, call me Vicki.” Vicki smiled.

Tim nodded, and Selina cut in.

“We’ve got to run, but I’ll call your office later this week to see if we can arrange a little sit down?” Selina said, “You just have to see the new apartment, it’s to die for.”

“I’d love that.” Vicki said, “You guys have fun tonight. It was wonderful to meet you, Tim.”

They turned away from Vicki and made their way up the front steps of the museum. Selina grinned at him, and then gave him a slight hi-five.

“I’ve never seen someone work out how to play Vicki Vale that quickly. It was a thing of beauty.” Selina mimed wiping a tear away from her eye, “You make me so proud.”

Tim tipped his head back and laughed, “She’s got one foot in the door and one foot out of it, she’s a part of the event, but she’s also the press. People are going to look at her like an outsider no matter what her invitation says, it didn’t hurt to be a little bit nicer to her than I would be with any other reporter.”

“Vicki is a wonderful ally to have on your side, there’s hardly a news story in this town that doesn’t go by her first.” Selina graciously smiled at the man who opened the door to the museum for them, “She’s given me a heads up on a few things I might be interested in over the years, and I always repay her with an exclusive or two.”

“And what’s more exclusive than an apartment tour and brunch interview with Selina Kyle and her mysterious new son?” Tim waggled his eyebrows.

“Kids,” Selina sighed, “they say the darndest things.”

Tim stuck by Selina’s side as they walked through the halls of the museum. It looked different during the day, almost like an entirely different place. It was so open and airy, Tim could hardy believe that they’d robbed it a few hours ago. He could hear music thrumming softly in the distance, what sounded like a string quartet met his ears and calmed him a bit more.

They were silent as they walked, and eventually Tim found himself standing in the atrium again. It looked completely different when it was lit up. There were tall tables set up around the room, groups of people mingling around them and holding drinks. Servers walked the rooms dressed in tuxedos, they balanced platters of food and drinks that people would pluck from when they walked by. There was a long table on the far side of the room, set up like a buffet that no one really seemed to be touching.

Tim supposed these events weren’t really for eating anyway.

The main attraction was still in the middle of the room, the display of jewels was set up exactly like it had been the night before, but there were pathways made out of velvet rope that led directly up to them, allowing anyone to lean in and examine them. There was a sign that asked the guests not to touch the jewels, along with two armed guards on either side of the display area, but nothing else was in place to stop someone if they tried to snatch one off one of the displays.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Selina looked at him slyly.

“They’re OK, I guess.” Tim shrugged.

Tim noticed several people watching them as they walked through the room. Raised eyebrows, hushed whispers, and open smiles bounded around the room. Tim was under a microscope, and he could feel it. Selina sensed his discomfort and placed a hand in the middle of his back, rubbing a gentle circle. It steeled Tim, he leaned into the touch until he felt himself relax a bit.

“Do you want to mingle with me?” Selina asked.

Tim almost said yes, just to get it over with, but his stomach growing drew his attention. He looked from the large crowd behind Selina, and then at the rather empty buffet table, and made his decision.

“Maybe in a little bit?” Tim said, “I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”

Selina nodded, “Alright, you know where to find me.”

“As if I could miss you.” Tim laughed, shaking his head.

Selina rolled her eyes, but she winked at him once before he turned away and floated off to join the party. It felt odd being alone, but the loss of Selina’s presence seemed to have pulled some eyes away from him. Selina was always the one that people paid attention to, and that was more than OK with Tim.

He rocked back on his heels for a second, and then turned to walk towards the buffet table. It was a long table, probably several dozen feet long, but there were only two people at either end of it. One of them looked like someone who worked there, and another looked like a guest. Tim watched the guy as he picked up a plate and started loading bits and pieces of food onto it. It all looked mouth wateringly delicious, and Tim couldn’t wait to copy the guy once he got a plate of his own.

The closer Tim got though, the more he started to hear people talking. His eyes fell onto a group of teenagers standing a few feet behind the guy who was loading his plate, the four of them were clustered in a loose circle, and their eyes kept darting to the guy at the table. They’d giggle every few seconds, and one would always look around conspiratorially as if they were checking to see if anyone was listening.

The guy at the table was listening, if his body language was anything to go by. His shoulders hunched up more and more as the group talked, and he’d wince every time one of them laughed.

Tim decided to focus his hearing to find out exactly what was going on. He paused at an empty round table and turned to the side so his right ear was facing the group. A waiter walked by, and Tim swiftly plucked a glass of champagne off his tray without him even noticing. He raised it to his lips, took a sip, and listened.

The blonde girl was the first he heard, “I can’t believe it, he does this at every single one of these things, it’s so embarrassing.”

“Well, you know where he comes from, he’s probably not used to having edible food.” A boy with brown curly hair said.

“Still,” the girl with long black hair said, “it’s embarrassing.”

“It just goes to show that you can live in a giant mansion, but it’ll never teach you class.” A boy with slicked back blonde hair and glasses said, “Once a street rat, always a street rat.”

Tim damn near snapped the stem of his champagne glass in half. He took a deep breath, collected himself and his anger, and then walked over to the group of teenagers. They looked up at him with confusion when he got closer, and he gave them a brilliantly fake smile as he held his glass lazily in his hand.

“Hi, I figured I’d come introduce myself.” Tim said, his voice dripping with pretension, “My name’s Tim Kyle.”

“Kyle?” The blonde girl repeated, “As in, Selina Kyle?”

“The one and only.” Tim laughed, “This is my first night coming to one of these things, and my mother said I should try and make some friends.”

“Selina Kyle is your mom?” The boy with the glasses asked, his jaw hanging wide open, “When did that happen?”

“A little over a year ago.” Tim said, shrugging, “We just moved back to Gotham full time, we’ve been traveling over the last year.”

“Holy shit.” The girl with the black hair said.

“Hey, so I heard you talking about that guy at the table,” Tim said, his voice just loud enough to be overheard, “what’s his deal?”

The guy at the table turned, and looked at Tim with stunningly blue eyes. They widened, and it took Tim a moment to realize where he’d seen the guy before. He looked familiar, the hair with just a slight curl to it, his leanly muscled frame.

It was Jason, the guy who’d literally ran into him at the library.

“Him?” One of the girls rolled her eyes, “That’s Bruce Wayne’s new charity project, Jason something or whatever.”

“I swear, it’s like he just chooses a kid to pick up off the streets every other week.” The kid with brown hair said, “Then they come in here and act like tough shit cuz they don’t have to live in a fucking box or something anymore.”

Jason’s face twisted in anger, Tim  saw the way his hand curled into a fist, and he took a step towards the group. Tim managed to catch his eye, he gave Jason a slight smile and shook his head, trying to stop him before he started a brawl. While Tim would love to see the smug asshole get punched in the face, he could think of a few more creative ways to shut them all up.

“Wow.” Tim blinked, astonished, “is everyone here a vapid asshole, or is it just you four?”

Tim looked back at Jason and smirked, barely holding in a laugh when he saw the stunned look on Jason’s face. The four teenagers in front of him all wore similar expressions of shock, through they quickly changed to ones of anger.

“What the hell did you just say to me?” The kid with the brown hair growled.

“I’m sure I spoke loud enough the first time,” Tim screwed his face into a false look of confusion, “I asked if being a fucking asshole was exclusive to your motley crew, or if everyone else here was as big of pieces of shit as you are.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” The blonde girl nearly screamed, “You…you can’t just walk in here and talk to us like this! Do you know who my father is?”

“No.” Tim shrugged, “And frankly, I don’t give a damn. I wouldn’t want to meet your parents, I can only imagine the pieces of work they are if they churned out something like _you_.”

The girl reeled back as if Tim had just slapped her.

“Here’s my problem,” Tim began, “the four of you are standing here in this little cluster of negativity, judging someone for eating food. Can you please explain that to me? Because really, if we’re going to judge people, I can think of a few things that are a little more interesting than someone wanting to eat food.”

They all stared at him in shock, barely moving. Tim had identified several weak points on them before he’d even walked over, and he was more than happy to point them out.

He turned to face the blonde girl first, “That tacky ring that you’ve been playing with all night, it’s turning your finger green. If you’re going to insist on fake jewelry, at least make sure it’s of better quality than that.”

She opened her mouth, but Tim held his palm up to silence her.

“You.” Tim pointed to the guy with glasses, “You’re wearing a blue suit, a brown belt, and black shoes. Maybe you should learn how to dress yourself before you come for other people.”

“Girl with brown hair whose name I really don’t care to find out,” Tim grinned at her, then pointed to the black scuffs at the bottom of her dress, “how many times have you worn that same dress out to one of these parties? By the looks of it, I’d say several dozen.”

They all looked like they were about to cry.

It was beautiful.

The blonde guy was the last one on Tim’s list, he gave him a once over, then shrugged, “And you’re not even worth my time.”

Tim didn’t give them anymore attention after that, he simply stepped between their group, shouldering his way past one of the boys who was standing completely still, and walked up to Jason. He cracked a wicked smile when Jason looked at him.

“Holy shit.” Jason said, “That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some crazy shit.”

Tim shrugged, he picked up a plate and started loading it with food, “Believe it or not, I was actually holding back.”

“If that’s you holding back, I don’t think I want to see you when you don’t.” Jason laughed, leaning against the table as he watched Tim.

“Probably not.” Tim agreed with him, “I never got the chance to introduce myself the other day, I’m Tim.”

“Yeah, I heard that part before you tore into them.” Jason nodded, “Tim Kyle, huh?”

“The one and only.” Tim laughed, grinning before he popped a shrimp into his mouth.

Tim looked over his shoulder and found the other group gone. The rest of the party was still continuing on, oblivious to what had happened, so it left just Jason and Tim standing alone together at the table. Jason didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get away from Tim, and Tim certainly wasn’t in a hurry to get away from him.

“Thanks for stopping me from punching that asshole.” Jason sighed, “Bruce woulda flipped his shit if I did it again.”

“Again?” Tim asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I kicked the one in the glasses in the stomach on the last day of school.” Jason shrugged, “I got tired of him talking shit, which apparently did nothing to prevent him from doing it again.”

“You have to know how to talk to those types of people, they care more about what people think of them than anything else. They latch on to perceived faults of other people to hide their own insecurities, you just have to point them out and it’ll normally shut them up for good.”

“So, a verbal kick to the stomach?” Jason asked.

Tim wiggled his hand back and forth, a so-so motion, “More like a verbal throat slitting, but yeah, same concept.”

Jason looked away for a second, and Tim took the opportunity to look at him even closer. His hair was partly styled, you could tell someone had tried to, but he’d undone most of it by running a hand through it. His suit fit him well, almost as closely tailored at Tim’s. It was simple though, black and to the point, lacking any exciting pops of color that Tim would have if he was in a plain black suit.

“You wanna hang out away from all of this?” Jason asked, waving a hand towards the party.

“Sure.” Tim answered without even thinking about it.

“Cool,” Jason nodded, “Follow me.”

Jason turned and walked towards the large archway on the opposite side of the atrium. There was a sign saying the area they were entering was off limits, but Jason walked right past it without paying any attention. Tim followed him, periodically popping pieces of food into his mouth as he watched Jason walk. His longer legs covered more distance in one step than Tim, so Tim had to work double time to keep up with him.

“You do have a destination in mind, right?” Tim asked, “Not that I’m be against wandering a museum after hours.”

Jason looked over his shoulder, a sly smile on his face, “Lookin’ for stuff to steal?”

“Totally!” Tim laughed, he darted ahead in front of Jason and stopped in front of a statue of a woman with the head of a dog who was pouring water over her naked body, “You grab it by the feet, I’ll take the head, if we can get it out without anyone seeing I think we could make a good profit.”

“50/50 split?” Jason asked, tipping his head to the side like he was seriously considering it.

“We’ll see how well you do with the transport.” Tim laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes, “Come on, we’re not far.”

Jason took the lead again as they walked. He didn’t say much as they went along, he’d occasionally point out a piece of art he liked, but that was about it. It was a comfortable silence when neither of them were talking, and Tim was a bit stunned about how easy Jason was to be around. They’d technically just officially met, but Tim didn’t feel any lingering awkwardness around him. It was rare for Tim to meet someone and feel that kind of connection, his paranoid usually led to him vetting people three separate ways before deciding to spend time alone with them, and here he was walking off into a dark museum with Jason after knowing him for all of five minutes.

“Out here.” Jason said, undoing the lock to a set of French doors that swung outward into the museum’s manicured garden.

They walked past rows of creatively shaped shrubs until they came to a stop in front of a round fountain in the middle of the courtyard that Tim had a vague memory of seeing when they were breaking into the museum last night.  A tall pillar stuck out from the middle of it, shooting water up into the air, the sound of the falling water slapping against the pool of still water below was relaxing in a weird way.

Jason sat down on the edge of the fountain and kicked his legs out, Tim dropped down onto the stone surface after him, leaving about a foot of distance between them. Jason reached into his pocket and pulled a small box out, he shook it once and then opened the top, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. He angled the box and shook it at Tim, arching an eyebrow in question.

“No thanks.” Tim shook his head, “I tried it once because I thought it would make me look cool, but I didn’t like it.”

Jason huffed out a laugh, sticking the tip of the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, he took a long drag and tipped his head up to the sky as he blew out the smoke, “It doesn’t make you look cool.”

“I know.” Tim shrugged, “In my defense though, it was in Paris and everyone in Paris automatically looks cool just for existing, so I was trying to catch up.”

Paris was one of the places they went that Tim wished they would have gone when he was older. It was such a beautiful city, filled with so much to see and do, and twelve-year-old Tim did not appreciate it the way he should have.

Jason laughed, “Bruce took me with him to Paris last year and tried to get me to eat a fucking snail. I’ve been desperate to eat before and even I wouldn’t have eaten a _snail_.”

“Selina has this weird obsession with caviar, I honestly think she’d eat it for every meal if she could.” Tim wrinkled his nose, “I just don’t get the appeal of eating creepy fish eggs.”

“Caviar isn’t the worst.” Jason’s sly smile was clear even with his lips wrapped around his cigarette.

“It’s nice out here.” Tim said, changing the subject, “It’s quiet.”

If Tim focused, he could pick up on the sounds inside of the building, more specifically Selina’s voice since he’d trained himself to pick it out of a crowd if he had to, but the party was so far away that it wasn’t a constant buzzing in his ear that it normally would have been.

“It’s why I don’t hate coming to things here.” Jason said, “I normally ditch Bruce a few minutes in, steal a shit ton of food, and just sit out here until a security guard finds me.”

“And then what happens?” Tim asked, “Do you just glare at him until he goes away?”

Jason shook his head, he opened up his pack of cigarettes again and pulled out a folded up $100 bill, “I give him this if he pretends he never saw me. It’s usually the same guy, so I think he volunteers for this hell of a shift for the extra money.

“Think he’ll upcharge you since I’m here?” Tim asked.

Jason shrugged, pulling out another $100 bill, “I’ll cover you this once. Gotta spend the money Bruce gives me on something.”

As if he was summoned, the French doors opened, and a security guard stepped through them. Tim squinted as the beam of a flashlight swept across his eyes, and Jason let out a low groan as the guard got closer.

“You’re not allowed to be out here.” The guard said.

“You’re not Karl.” Jason huffed, “Dammit.”

“Karl’s on vacation.” The guard folded his arms over his chest, he looked pointedly at the cigarette in Jason’s hand, “This entire property is non-smoking. You need to head back inside and rejoin the party, the rest of the museum is off limits.”

Jason glared at the guard as he stubbed the end of his cigarette out on the stone bench of the fountain. The guard waited for them both to stand, and then herded them back towards the door. Jason dropped his dead cigarette in the first trashcan they passed as they walked back towards the party, the guard watched them to make sure they returned, and then disappeared once they did.

The party had grown more crowded in their absence, Tim’s eyes scanned the crowd as he looked for Selina, and he found her on the dancefloor. The tulle at the bottom of her dress glided across the dancefloor as she moved to the music, her arms were draped around a tall man with broad shoulders and closely cropped black hair.  

The upper level of the atrium was less crowded, there were a few people mingling on the balcony, but there was more room to breathe. Tim nudged Jason with his elbow, pointing towards the stairs in a silent question.

“Sure.” Jason shrugged, leading the way.

Tim was silently glad Jason didn’t decide to ditch him once they were kicked out of his hiding spot. He’d vastly overestimated the entertainment factor when it came to a Gotham party, it paled in comparison to the ones he and Selina had gone to overseas. Tim supposed the only time a Gotham party was exciting was when an armed robbery occurred.

Jason took the steps up to the second level two at a time, arriving to the top a few seconds before Tim did. The second level looked different now that the lights were on, Tim wandered over to the balcony and leaned over the railing to look down at the ruby from above, it seemed like a much more dangerous drop than it had the night before.

“Hey?” Jason said, drawing Tim’s attention as he draped his arms over the black bars of the railing.

“Yeah?” Tim asked, turning to look at Jason.

“Thank you.” Jason said, his voice a little smaller than it had been when they were outside, like he was embarrassed, “Sorry I didn’t say it earlier, I’m not really used to people sticking up for me.”

Tim easily picked up on a few hints that Jason had dropped earlier, coupled with what the group of assholes were saying behind his back, he obviously hadn’t had the best life before Bruce adopted him. Tim connected with him when it came to that, so he felt like he owed it to Jason to take some of the embarrassment off his shoulders.

“I know what you mean,” Tim said, his voice tinged with a little sadness, “I didn’t have anyone who stuck up for me before Selina.”

A waiter walked behind them, and Tim reached back to steal two glasses of champagne from his tray without looking. Jason’s eyes went a little wide as the sudden movement, but he broke out into laughter when Tim handed him one of the glasses.

“Birds of a feather, huh?” Jason asked, holding his glass out towards Tim.

“Yeah.” Tim smiled clicking the edge of his glass with Jason’s.

They sat down on once of the benches after that and just talked. Tim hadn’t talked to someone without trying to find anything out from them in what felt like forever. Jason talked about what it was like living in Wayne Manor, and Tim traded him a story about the time Selina made a contractor cry because he spent too much time staring at her ass instead of working. Jason told Tim about how he’d never been on a plane until he was adopted by Bruce, and the first time they hit turbulence he’d had a panic attack because he thought the plane was about to crash. Tim told Jason about the time he’d tried to race a jet ski in Cancun, Mexico, only to fly over the handlebars and almost drown when he hit a wave.

They traded story after story, and when Tim finally looked at the clock nearby, two hours had passed.

Tim stretched out his legs and groaned, standing, and walking back over to the balcony. He hung his arms over the side as he looked down at the ruby, people were standing all around it, their eyes sparkling as they leaned in to get as close of a look as they could. A laugh bubbled up out of Tim, they had no idea they were looking at a fake.

“What’s so funny?” Jason asked, he had two more champagne glasses in his hand, one of which he handed to Tim.

“Just watching the people down below lose their shit over the ruby.” Tim smiled behind the rim of his glass before taking a slow sip.

Jason rolled his eyes, “I don’t even get it, what’s the big deal? It’s a shiny fuckin’ rock.”

Tim opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a voice from the crowd below. It was conversational, impossible to hear unless you were someone like Tim, but the voice would forever be burned into his brain.

“Go get me a drink, Janet.”

Tim’s eyes snapped to the crowed below, they raked over it until he found the source of the voice. It took a few seconds, but Tim eventually found the person he was looking for. He was taller than Tim remembered, his shoulders broader, it looked like he’d put on even more muscle than the last time Tim saw him.

Standing in the middle of the room was his father.

Jack Drake.

Tim’s hands began to shake, and champagne sloshed out of his glass and landed on the floor. He didn’t care, all the could do was stare at his father from above, he watched the way Jack’s eyes tracked his mother as she moved, like he was waiting for her to do something wrong. The glass slipped from his hands, and Tim heard the sound of it shattering as it hit the time. He flinched away, recoiling as the sound brought back memories of things that would happen to him whenever he broke something.

“Tim?” Jason’s voice sounded miles away, “Tim, what’s wrong?”

Tim couldn’t answer, all he could do is stare at his father. He knew he’d see him again, he would have to eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He thought he’d be able to control when it happened, that he could prepare himself, but there was nothing Tim could have done to prepare for this. Four years later, several hundred feet and flight of stairs away, Tim was still terrified of his father.

“I…” Tim tried to take a deep breath, “I’m…I…”

Tim couldn’t speak, so he did what he did best.

He ran.

He left Jason standing there as he ran towards the closest door he could find, which turned out to be the bathroom. It was empty when Tim burst inside, he ran down the line of stalls and into the last one, locking the door behind him. He sat on the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, and wrapping his arm around them.

The door to the bathroom opened again, and the echo of dress shoes bounced around the room, Jason’s hesitant voice followed, “Tim?”

Jason stopped outside of the final stall, Tim could see his feet under the gap, he knocked on the door.

“Tim, please tell me you’re OK.”

“I…” Tim trailed off, “I’m…I don’t think I am.”

Tim watched as Jason dropped down onto his knees, and then onto his stomach so he could slide himself under the stall. The absurdity of the image would have made Tim laugh under any other circumstance, but all he could focus on were the specks of white dust on Jason’s suit from where he rolled around on the floor.

Jason reached out, but jerked his hand back when he saw Tim flinch, “I’m not going to touch you.”

Tim nodded, “OK.”

“What do you need?” Jason asked.

Tim took a deep breath, the only thing he needed was to get out of this building, which he couldn’t do without, “Selina. Please…can you find Selina for me?”

Jason nodded slowly, “Are you going to be OK by yourself?”

Tim shook his head rapidly, “No. Please don’t leave me.”

Tim didn’t want to be alone, not when his father could walk in at any moment.

“OK.” Jason said, “I’ll stay right here, and I’ll find a way to get Selina.”

Jason pulled something out of his pocket, it looked like a phone, but Tim couldn’t find it in himself to pay attention. He turned his eyes away from Jason and stared at a small scratch on the wall in front of him. He didn’t blink, didn’t think of anything aside from the scratch in the wall.

A few minutes later, the door to the bathroom squealed as it opened, Tim looked away from the scratch at the sound.

“Tim?” Selina’s voice called out.

He let out a ragged breath of air, he already felt lighter now that she was here.

 Jason was still sitting on the floor across from him, he reached up and undid the lock, “In here.”

Jason stood and pushed the door open, and then stepped to the side as Selina moved into the stall. Another man stood outside the hall, and Jason naturally gravitated towards him. It was the same man that Selina had been dancing with, it took a moment to register that the man was Bruce Wayne.

“Selina.” Tim whispered when he saw her.

Selina knelt down on the floor next to him, pulling him into a hug, she whispered loud enough for only Tim to here, “I’m here, kitten.”

Tim pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning into her neck to continue their almost silent conversation, “He’s here. I saw him.”

“I know, kitten.” Selina’s voice was filled with regret, “I’m so sorry, he wasn’t supposed to be. I checked the guest list and he wasn’t on it, he must have found a different way in.”

Tim hugged her for a few more seconds, he felt better now that she was closer. He felt more protected, he knew there was nothing bad that could happen if Selina was around. He nodded so she knew he was feeling better, and Bruce offered her a hand to help her up from the floor. Jason did the same for Tim, and Tim took it and let Jason pull him up.

“Can we go home?” Tim asked Selina.

“Of course,” Selina said immediately, “I’ll call for the car now.”

Bruce spoke up, “My driver is parked around back, I can have him take you home if you want.”

“Are you sure?” Selina asked.

“Of course.” Bruce smiled, “I’ll have him bring the car around right now.”

Tim felt another bolt of fear shoot through him, that meant they’d have to go through the front and risk running into his father again. Selina noticed his reaction and placed a gentle hand on Bruce’s arm.

“Don’t trouble him, we can go meet him out back.” Selina said softly, “I appreciate your kindness, Bruce.”

“You know there’s no need to thank me, Selina.” Bruce said.

“Jason, why don’t we let Selina and Tim have some air?” Bruce asked, dropping a light hand on Jason’s shoulder.

Jason didn’t look like he wanted to leave, but he moved to follow Bruce, “Yeah, sure.”

“Jason?” Tim said before Jason could leave.

Jason turned around, “Yeah?”

Tim tried to give Jason the most reassuring smile he could, “Thank you.”  

Jason stared at him for a moment, his expression softened when he nodded, “Birds of a feather?”

“Yeah.” Tim smiled.

Jason smiled back at him, and then turned to follow Bruce out of the bathroom. Selina was at the sink washing her hands, and Tim figured he should do the same since he’d just sat on a bathroom floor for an extended period of time. She pulled him into another hug after he was done, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I could go down there and kill him right now.” Selina whispered, hatred filling her voice.

“I know.” Tim said, he’d thought about it himself over the years, “But that’s the easy way out.”

Selina sighed, leaning against the counter, “I’m going to enjoy burning his world down even more than I thought I would.”

“Me too.” Tim said, following Selina as she headed towards the door.

They made their way down to the back exit of the museum, and the driver of Bruce Wayne’s car flagged them down. It was a simple black town car, but there was more than enough room for both of them in the back. Tim listened to Selina give the driver directions, and then closed his eyes as the car pulled out of the museum. He slumped against Selina’s shoulder, exhaustion hitting him like a train, and felt himself drift off as Selina’s fingers began to card through his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm living my full on gossip girl fantasy with all the research i'm doing for the fashion in this lmao [this](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/zac-posen-plunging-tulle-skirt-mermaid-gown-prod214570019?childItemId=NMB4KV0_&navpath=cat000000_cat000001_cat000727_cat13590732&page=0&position=76&uuid=PDP_PAGINATION_5475c216072182d20626799646d99a16_pObrLl5zESCIoamvXUnOOi2v) is selinas dress and [this](https://www.cartier.com/en-us/collections/jewelry/collections/cartier-fauna-and-flora/cartier-fauna-and-flora-bracelets/hp600307-panth%C3%A8re-de-cartier-bracelet.html) is the obscenely expensive cartier panthere collection bracelet that she hella stole from a jewlery store in the middle of the day when she was bored and [this](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/tom-ford-oconnor-base-sharkskin-two-piece-suit-bright-navy-prod190330209?childItemId=NMN41X4_&navpath=cat000000_cat000470_cat14120827_cat48730755&page=0&position=4&uuid=PDP_PAGINATION_e2ac10bf4a3d5d15f45ea1681c0c12f3_pObrLl5zESCIoamvXUnOOi2v) is tim's suit


	5. Garden Party

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

Garden Party

 

Stray lowered himself through the opened widow, his feet falling on the soft carpet just inside the building. He took a few steps forward, leaving enough room for Catwoman to follow behind him. He didn’t hear her landing, but the dull thud of the window closing was enough for him to know she was inside. He walked ahead, his eyes roving around the room until he found the staircase that led to the lower level.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” Stray said, sliding down the banister for fun, “It’s not going to be exciting, I’m not even _really_ stealing anything.”

Catwoman was already at the bottom step by the time Stray slid off the railing, “Did you not want me to come? I know this is personal to you, so if you’d like alone time to work on it, I won’t stand in your way.”

Catwoman’s tone wasn’t biting or accusatory, it was just a simple offer. She’d learned over the years that sometimes he needed his space, and she was more than happy to give it to him.

“No, no.” Stray said, shaking his head, “I want you here for all of this, but I’m just hacking into a few computers. It’s going to be boring.”

“Boring isn’t always terrible, Kitten.” Catwoman shrugged, “Plus, I’ve got a little time before that meeting with the perspective buyer, I’ll probably be out all night tailing him once we’re done talking, so I’m going to take all the time I can get with my little Stray.”

Stray preemptively dodged her hair ruffling hand, “You sure you don’t need my help with that?”

Catwoman shook her head, “It’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.”

“Alright then.” Stray said, leaning his head to the side to crack his neck, “Let’s find the main computer terminal then.”

The Timothy Drake Memorial Library looked different at night. There was something foreboding about it, almost gothic in a sense. It’s lofty ceilings and dark woods made shadows stand out even more, making the place feel like ghosts roamed the halls.

In a way, they did.

Catwoman walked ahead of him, and came to a stop at the glass case that displayed Timothy’s photo. Stray didn’t want to look at it again, didn’t want to let what it represented cloud his current objective.

“This place is distasteful.” Catwoman said, her voice dripping with venom.

“It is.” Stray sighed, “But it’s also the easiest place I’ll be able to hack into the Drake Industries computer network.”

Things hadn’t changed much in the last four years; all of the Drake Industries properties were still connected on the same computer system. The lower ones on the totem pole, like the library, were only give rudimentary access to the system, so things like internal memos and files could be shared, but there was still a way to get into the main system if you knew what you were doing.

And Stray knew what he was doing.

He found himself in front of a locked door, and the hum he could hear coming from the other side told him that he’d found the server room. He popped one of the claws on his fingers, crouched down, and quickly picked the lock to the door. He was hit with a blast of cold air once the door opened, the temperature lowered to keep the server from overheating.

It wasn’t anything special, just enough machinery to keep the computer network and Wi-Fi within the library up and running, but it still gave him access to a proprietary Drake Industries tower. Stray grabbed a small rolling stool from behind the reception desk, pulled it in front of the server tower's main monitor, and got to work.

Catwoman leaned against the wall behind him, “Do you know exactly what you’re looking for?”

“Not entirely,” Stray admitted, “I want to install a backdoor into the system first, that way we can get into it from anywhere instead of having to break into here every time, and then I’ll do some digging to see if I can find anything useful or interesting.”

Ideally, Stray would be able to find something incriminating on his father or Drake Industries as a whole, or at the very least, something embarrassing enough to ruin him. He’d struggled with the type of revenge he wanted against his father for the first few years, every option was on the table, death included, but Stray finally decided what he wanted to do to his father just before they’d come back to Gotham.

Stray wanted to ruin Jack Drake.

Killing him would be too easy, and he’d seen far too many people go off the deep end after choosing that option. Killing someone was a slippery slope, no matter how justified you might think it is. If Stray killed his father, what was stopping him from killing the next person who hurt him? If he used the justification that his father killed him, would Stray use that as a flimsy excuse to kill the next asshole with a gun who tried to shoot at him?

Besides, killing his father didn’t serve any justice. It was too quick of a release, and Stray had much more planned. Stray was fine with playing the long game, he’d already waited four years, what another six months or more?

The slow burn of Jack Drake’s downfall would satisfy Stray far more than a quick bullet to the head ever would.

Hacking into the libraries server was laughably easy, they didn’t use anything stronger than a store bought security program that Stray could crack in his sleep. The Drake Industries logo flashed at him once he was inside, a revolving circle with the initials laid in the center. Once upon a time, he’d thought that logo would make everything he went through worth it. All he’d have to do was make it through all the pain, wait until his father retired or whatever the hell happened to him, and then he could take over the company. When he was younger, he thought everything that happened to him was a test, and if he just survived, then it would mean he passed it.

He didn’t survive, obviously.

“That screen looks like a bad movie from the 90’s.” Catwoman remarked from over his shoulder.

“It’s dated,” Stray agreed, “just like everything else about their cyber security. You’d think for such a powerful company, they’d have a considerably harder server to crack open. They must think they’d never have to deal with a server-side attack.”

Stray was slightly disappointed, he was looking forward to a bit of a challenge.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, he clicked through security screens, passed security checks, and worked out enough passwords until he eventually found himself deep within the Drake Industries file network. Stray pulled a thumb drive out of one of the pouches of his belt and stuck it into the computer. A second screen filled with green text popped up, and Stray put in the requisite commands that would allow his program to install a backdoor into the Drake Industries system. The small virus transmitted itself from the thumb drive and into the computer, and Stray popped out the tablet on his gauntlet to check if he had full access.

He swiped through a few screens on the tablet, and with the click of an inconspicuous app he found himself knee deep in Drake Industries files.

“Perfect.” Stray smiled.

“Impressive, Kitten.” Catwoman said, squeezing the back of his neck.

Stray leaned into the touch for a moment before sliding the tablet back into place and returning his attention back to the computer.

“There’s hundreds of thousands of files in here, it’ll take me forever to go through them all.” Stray said, “There’s bound to be something I can use though.”

Catwoman leaned in again, tapping her finger against the computer screen, “What’s that?”

Stray drug the mouse pointer to the link, “Recent developments?”

Stray clicked the link, and the page repopulated with dozens of internal memos about upcoming Drake Industries projects. None of them seemed to peak Stray’s curiosity, at least not until he got halfway down the list and saw a heading for a communication listed five days ago. Stray hovered over the link, and then clicked in to read the memo that was addressed directly to his father.

**RE: Meyer Global Energy Consolidated Acquisition**

**Mr. Drake,**

**As you know, the purchase and complete acquisition of MGEC was finalized late last month. The process of shipping most of their equipment was put into motion shortly after, and the shipment was finally received late this afternoon, and the factory workers have already begun unloading them across several of our warehouses down on the docks. The complete shipping and inventory list is enclosed in the attached documents, but I am happy to inform you that we received all of their drilling and hydraulic machines disassembled without any problems. They are being stored in Warehouse 72, and are under strict guard since they were the entire reason for the acquisition of MGEC in the first place. The board of directors will be meeting a six days from today to finalize the plans for DI to begin it’s fracking practices.**

**Your Best,**

**Karl Lester**

Stray leaned back, drumming his fingers on the metal stand in front of him, “DI is getting into the energy business, huh?”

“Fracking is pretty serious.” Catwoman said, “It’s bad for the environment, isn’t it?”

Stray tipped his head back, eyeing the grin stretched out across her face, “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

Catwoman shrugged, “It just seems to me like we both know someone who’d like to get their hands on this information.”

“I do owe her a favor.” Stray said.

“And the best kind of favors are the ones that aren’t favors at all.”

“Can you find me a file folder or something?” Stray asked, “So these don’t fly all over the place when I’m running around the city.”

Catwoman nodded, disappearing back out into the library.

Stray printed out the initial memo, and then opened up the documents that contained the shipping manifest and printed those too. It was a bundle of about forty pages, which was more than enough proof for what Stray needed done. Catwoman handed him a large yellow envelope, and Stray slid the stack of paper inside it. He closed out of the computer, setting everything back exactly how it had been, and deleted any trace of his virus from the server. He checked to make sure the backdoor was still open on his tablet, which it was.

“Good work, Kitten.” Catwoman said as the climbed through the same window they came in.

Stray followed her of the side of the building, the tips of his claws digging in to the brick of the building. The envelope was secured to his waist, and he stretched his arms above his head when they reached the top of the library.

“I’ll see you back at the apartment?” Stray asked.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? I can reschedule the meet tonight, we both know how temperamental she can be.” Catwoman offered.

Stray shook his head, “I’ll be fine. You know she likes me.”

“She thinks you’re amusing, that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t feed you to her plants if you made her mad.” Catwoman deadpanned.

“Me? Make Pam mad?” Stray gasped, “Never!”

Catwoman laughed, “She will be if you ever call her Pam to her face.”

“I’ll be fine.” Stray said, “I have my tracker on, and I know how to access the distress beacon if I need to.”

“Alright.” Catwoman said, but her voice still sound weary, “I’ll pick up a bottle of extra strength weed killer just in case.”

Stray nodded, “Be safe.”

“You too.” Catwoman said before backflipping off the edge of the room.

Showoff.

 

^ ^

 

Stray stood in front of Robinson Park with a yellow file envelope in his left hand, and a brown paper bag in his right.

The gates to Robinson Park were covered in thick, green vines. They were wider than Stray’s body, almost the size of enormous tree trunks. They formed a barrier against entry, the vines crisscrossing over the gate like a green spider web. Stray knew he could easily scale any of the walls around the park, but it was always best to come in peace with Ivy.

He’d met her a few times over his years with Catwoman, when they’d come back to the states with whatever rare plant or something that Ivy wanted Catwoman to procure for her. They always met her outside of Gotham’s city limits, and Stray could remember the near heart attack he had the first time when Ivy literally crawled out of the dirt right next to where he’d been standing.

It had been a little under a year since Stray had seen her last, about fifty miles outside of Gotham in a little patch of woods. Stray had been so enamored with one of the plants she’d had with her that Ivy let Stray name it, a move which she’d later come to regret.  

It wasn’t Stray’s fault he had no idea she hated puns.

“Knock, knock.” Stray said, shifting back and forth on his feet in front of the park, “Ivy, it’s Stray.”

Silence.

“Ivy, we both know I could come inside if I wanted to, I’m _trying_ to be respectful.” Stray said, “I have something I think you’ll be interested in.”

The leaves on the vine rustled, and a few seconds later they started to uncurl. Stray stood back until the vines had receded entirely, and then took his first step into the overgrown park.

Robinson Park resembled a jungle more than a park. The grass had grown up past his knee, and tall trees twisted up towards the sky. Exotic flowers dotted the landscape, and the plants turned on their own to face him as he walked by.

A white oleander flower popped up next to Stray’s foot, he shifted to the side so he’d avoid crushing it. Another one rose from the ground a few feet away, and then another a few feet further. Stray stepped towards the third flower, and a forth one bloomed in front of it. Stray followed the path of flowers, watching as they bloomed one right after the other in a winding line through the park.

The trail of flowers eventually led him to an open clearing in what was probably the middle of the park. The grass was finely manicured, and the clearing was surrounded by towering trees on all sides. The last oleander sat just inside the clearing, so Stray walked forward to stand next to it.

He stood there, waiting, until Ivy finally made her grand entrance. Movement from the other side of the clearing drew Stray's attention, a silhouette emerging from the tree line. Ivy was illuminated by the moonlight as she walked out of the forest, her red hair tumbling down over the light green skin of her shoulders. A crown of twisted thorns sat on her head, and her body was covered by red flowers that formed a flowing, regal dress. The train of her flower dress dragged along the ground as she walked, and it hadn’t even been fully exposed by the time she was standing in the middle of the clearing.

“Hello, Ivy.” Stray smiled, “You look lovely.”

Ivy stared at him, “I almost didn’t believe it when they told me, I thought Selina’s little kitten would never set foot in the city.”

Stray managed to hide his flinch, it still unsettled him that Ivy knew their identities. She’d known Catwoman’s for years, so it wasn’t a stretch for her to figure who Stray was. Catwoman wasn’t bothered by it, even though Ivy could be a fair-weather friend at times, she still trusted her to keep a secret.

“Training is finally over.” Stray said, “I’m here full time now.”

“Interesting.” Ivy said.

A throne emerged from the ground, twisted vines and leaves forming an elegant chair that Ivy lowered herself into.

“I have something you might be interested in.” Stray said, holding up the yellow envelope, “I came across this earlier tonight, and I thought you might like to know about it.”

“What is it?” Ivy asked, leaning forward a bit.

“Drake Industries is getting into the energy business.” Stray explained, “Only they’re not hopping on the green energy trend. They recently purchased a competing company and liquidated them of all of their technology.”

A vine slithered across the ground. It stopped just in front of Stray, and Ivy pointed to it. Stray placed the envelope on the tip of the vine, and it curled itself over it as it moved back towards Ivy. Ivy slid her hand under the seal, pulling the papers out to look them over.

“They have several warehouses down near the docks, that’s where they’re keeping what they got from the sale.” Stray said, “Warehouse 72 is the one that has the drilling equipment, their board of directors is meeting tomorrow to finalize plans to start the process of fracking just outside of Gotham.”

Ivy’s shoulders went rigid, and her first closed around the stack of papers until they formed a dense ball. She dropped the papers onto the ground, and the ground swallowed them.

“I was not aware of this.” Ivy said, “I don’t have much information about the areas around the docks.”

Stray nodded, “Can we consider this the favor I owe you?”

Ivy stared at him for a moment, and then sighed, relaxing a bit in her throne, “So be it, Stray.”

“Cool.” Stray grinned.

Ivy knew that he was Selina’s son, but she didn’t know where he came from. To Ivy, Stray was just a talented kid that Catwoman pulled out of a bad situation, she didn’t know anything about his previous life as Timothy Drake. Ivy had no idea that this favor was actually something that worked in his favor, and Stray was completely content with her never knowing.

“And that?” Ivy asked, pointing as the brown paper bag.

“This?” Stray asked, holding the bag up, “I brought a present for my friend.”

Ivy sighed, “Oh no.”

Stray unrolled the bag, reaching in and pulling out a thick cut of raw steak. He held it by two fingers, letting out a high whistled melody. The bushes behind Ivy began to rustle, and Stray bit back a grin as something crawled its way out towards him.

Slithering across the grass like a snake was a giant Venus Fly Trap, its head twisted towards Stray when he waved the piece of steak in the air, and its mouth opened to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth. It moved towards him quickly, lightly butting its head against Stray’s shins before it opened its mouth and waited. Stray laughed and dropped the steak into its mouth.

“Good girl.” Stray smiled as it chewed, “How’ve you been, DeMilo?”

“That isn’t her name.” Ivy said.

“You let me name her!” Stray reminded her.

In his defense, what fourteen-year-old who’d just spent an entire flight reading about Greek architecture wouldn’t see a giant, carnivorous sentient Venus Fly Trap and not name it after the Venus di Milo?

DeMilo looked up at him, flashing her teeth in a smile. At least, Stray assumed it was a smile. He wasn’t exactly sure how Ivy’s control of plants worked, but there were certainly a few of them that seemed independent rather than controlled by whatever will she has over nature. DeMilo was one of them, and she’d grown even more since the last time Stray had seen her.

“When she eats someone, it’s going to be your fault.” Ivy shook her head, rose petals falling from her hair.

Stray rubbed DeMilo on the top of her head, cooing, “If she eats someone, they probably deserved it.”

DeMilo wrapped around his legs, lifting him off the ground and swaying him back and forth through the air. Stray laughed as his body bobbed around, and he could have sworn he saw a small smile on Ivy’s lips for a quick second.

“Was there something else you needed, Stray?” Ivy asked as DeMilo sat him back on the ground.

“Nope.” Stray said, popping the p, “You might want to take care of the warehouses tonight, I don’t know how fast they’ll start moving things around after their meeting in the morning.”

Ivy nodded, “Thank you for the information, though I am curious how you found it.”

“Ran into it when I was hacking something for a different job,” Stray shrugged, “thought it seemed like something you’d appreciate a heads up on.”

“I do.” Ivy said, “Now leave, I have preparations to make.”

“Have fun.” Stray said, grinning as he turned, “Watch out for Batman!”

Ivy didn’t reply, so Stray followed the oleanders back to the entrance, and the vines closed across the gate to Robinson Park again the second Stray stepped onto the sidewalk.

 

^ ^

 

Stray had been wandering aimlessly around Gotham for the last twenty minutes. He’d been about a mile away from the warehouses when he picked up the sound of someone on his tail. It was almost too quiet, just a barely there flutter of a cape, but it was distinct enough to know who it belonged to.

Robin found him a few miles from Robinson Park, so there was no danger in the bird knowing where he was coming from, but it also meant he couldn't head straight to the docks to see Ivy work her magic. It would be more than a little suspicious for Stray to show up minutes before Ivy began her reign of destruction.

He’d radioed into Catwoman, and she told him that she’d had eyes on Batman a few minutes before, which meant that Robin was working on his own. Stray had been leading him on a wild goose chase since he’d discovered the tail, and he was more than a little amused at the muttered swears and confusion he’d pick up from Robin every time he did something that didn’t make any sense.

When Stray was tired of playing games, he rolled to a stop on the next roof he jumped to. He pushed himself up to his feet, walked over to the ledge of the building, and stretched his arms above his head in an exaggerated yawn. Seconds later, Stray heard the sound of something being fired at him. He turned to see some kind of snare heading towards his midsection, he popped the claws on his right hand and sliced upwards, cutting the snare in half. He smirked up in the direction the snare came from as it fell to the ground in two useless pieces.

Robin cut across the sky, gliding down on his cape from the building directly behind the one Stray was on. He dropped onto the roof in a crouch, and he scowled when he stood. Robin’s mouth was a thin line of frustration, and Stray couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think your toy broke.” Stray said apologetically as he pointed to half of the ruined snare on the ground.

“ _How_ did you do that?” Robin growled, “I had you!”

“Does anyone ever really have anyone?” Stray wondered out loud, jumping on to the ledge of the roof and moving across it with his arms out as if he was on a balance beam, “We’re all people, living our own individual lives.”

“Cut the bullshit, Stray.” Robin took a step forward, “What are you up to?”

Stray paused, turning towards Robin and balancing on one foot, “Whatever do you mean?”

Robin was getting frustrated with Stray’s aloof act. Seeing his cheeks grow red with annoyance almost made up for the way Robin had talked about them the first night they met.

“You’ve been wandering around the city for the last twenty minutes, what are you looking for?” Robin took another step forward.

“Oh, that?” Stray laughed, hopping from one foot to the other, “I noticed you following me, so I thought I’d make it worth your while and give you a little exercise.”

Robin’s gasp was almost inaudible, “Bullshit! There’s no way you knew I was following you.”

Stray hopped down on both feet and took a step towards Robin, when he spoke, he dropped his voice into a crude approximation of Robin’s less than intimidating growl, “Where is he going? Dammit Stray, stop moving so fast! What the fuck, why is he turning there? What the hell is that dumb ass cat trying to steal?”

Stray dodged the batarang that Robin threw at him.

Robin lunged at him, and Stray dove forward under his punch. Stray flipped up from the ground, undoing the chain around his waist, flicking it out so it could extend into his bo staff. He spun it around in his hands, and used the edge of it to knock away another batarang that Robin threw at him.

“Careful, you could hurt someone with those.” Stray smirked.

Robin didn’t say anything, just jumped towards Stray again. Stray swung the bo staff at him, but Robin anticipated it, moving to the side and grabbing it. Stray held on tight as Robin tried to jerk the staff out of his hands, and then let go of it at the moment Robin pulled hardest. Robin went stumbling backwards due to his own momentum, and Stray took the opening to sweep Robin’s feet out from under him. Robin fell back onto the roof, letting out a pained breath as his back collided with the solid surface.

Stray pounced on him, claws extended, and pressed the weight of his body on Robin’s so he couldn’t get up. Robin struggled under him, but Stray only smirked. He tapped the tips of his claws against Robin’s armored chest, and then leaned in close.

“Where’s the mouth tonight, Robin?” Stray asked, “Cat got your tongue?”

To Robin’s credit, Stray really didn’t expect Robin to headbutt him. The center of Robin’s forehead collided with Stray’s nose, and Stray fell backwards, wincing as the pain of the blow lanced through his face.

“Asshole!” Stray muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Anyone ever told you that you’ve got a hard head?”

It hurt like a bitch, but at least it wasn’t bleeding.

“Anyone who’s ever met me.” Robin said, rubbing at the center of his forehead as he stood, “That was for the other night, bitch.”

That startled a laugh out of Stray, he bent down to pick up his bo staff, and rolled his eyes at the way Robin tensed and tracked his movement. Stray sighed, cracking the middle of the staff over his knee so it collapsed. He looped the chain around his waist, secured it, and looked back at Robin.

“Are we going again, or?”

Robin hesitated for a moment, “You plannin’ on stealing any shit tonight?”

“I never was.” Stray said, and it was partly true, “I just wanted to get out and run, and I was having a good time until you started stalking me.”

“I wasn’t stalking you!” Robin stomped his foot on the roof, “I was doing my _job_ and tracking a known criminal!”

“Criminal?” Stray cocked his head to the side, “What exactly have I done that’s criminal? Stealing a picture that I drew myself?”

Robin’s cheeks turned red, he ignored the mention of the picture, “You were with Catwoman.”

“Guilt by association?” Stray laughed, “That hardly seems fair.”

“Deal with it, kid.” Robin crossed his arms over his chest, “It’s not a fair world.”

“Kid? You can’t be that much older than me.” Stray rolled his eyes.

“Still makes me older.” Robin puffed his chest out a little bit.

Stray shook his head, “Whatever, I’ll let you have that since it means so much to you.”

“He’s such a fucking dick.” Robin muttered to himself.

“I heard that.” Stray leaned over the edge of the roof, looking down at the street below.

“Robin, come in.” Batman’s voice came through Robin’s comm.

Interesting, he hadn’t even thought of listening in on their comms.

“A bit busy, Batman.” Robin pressed a finger to his ear, “I’m trying to bring in Stray.”

Stray rolled his eyes, he popped the claw on his middle finger and stuck it up at Robin.

“Bite me.” Robin whispered.

Stray slinked closer, cocking a hip, “Kinky. I like it. Name the time and place, birdy.”

Robin’s jaw dropped, he inhaled a shirt breath, and if Stray was hearing things correctly, his heartbeat fluttered.

Interesting.

“Robin!” Batman’s voice boomed, “Robin! Abandon your current position, Poison Ivy is attacking the docks.”

Robin jumped in place, startled by Batman’s yelling, “Oh, shit! Um, OK, shit. Yeah. On my way, I’m like ten minutes out.”

“Do not engage alone.” Batman said, “Wait for me.”

Robin was distracted, so Stray took that as his opportunity to slip away. He slowly backed towards the edge of the roof and stepped off the side without looking. He fell to the ground quickly, bending his legs to soften the blow as his feet hit the ground. He slipped across the street, into the shadow of the nearby alley, and scaled the back of a building to wind his way around the block to head towards the docks in a different direction than Robin.

“Hey!” Robin’s voice carried perfectly through the empty streets, “Where the hell did he go?”

 

^ ^

 

Catwoman found him sitting on a ledge across the street from the docks twenty minutes later. She settled down next to him, draping an arm around his shoulder.

“How did things go with your buyer?” Stray asked.

“He checks out,” Catwoman said, “he’s already deposited half of the fee into one of our accounts, so we’ll get his precious car for him tomorrow.”

Stray grinned, “We’re really stealing a car? That’s so awesome.”

“I’m driving.” Catwoman said, and her tone left no room for argument.

“Fine.” Stray sighed, just before an explosion from across the street rocked the building they were sitting on.

“How did it go with Ivy?” Catwoman asked.

Stray pointed at the wanton destruction across the street, “About as good as it could have.”

Another explosion boomed, and then roof of a third warehouse crumbled

“Wow.” Catwoman said, the fire reflecting in her goggles, “She must be mad.”

“I think she’s just bored.” Stray shrugged.

Robin’s scream echoed across the water as he was tossed in the air by one of Ivy’s sentient plant people. Batman swung by on his grapple, grabbing Robin by the cape just before he hit the ground.

Damn. That would have made a great picture.

“What happened to your nose?” Catwoman asked, gently turning his head to face her.

“Oh.” Stray had forgotten it even hurt, “Robin tailed me for a bit just before all this went down, we got int a fight, he headbutted me in the nose.”

Catwoman sneered, “My offer to throw him off a building still stands.”

Across the street, another plant monsters’ vines grabbed Batman and Robin, slamming their heads together before throwing them into a building on top of each other.

“I think the plant people have my back.” Stray smirked.

Catwoman and Stray quietly watched the scene across the street unfold. Batman pulled something out of his belt, he threw it on the ground, and a blue cloud of smoke rose over the area. The plant people began to wither, and the vines retracted back into the earth. The docks were destroyed though, three warehouses were left crumbed and in flames.

“You know what the funny part is?” Stray asked, looking at Catwoman.

“What?” Catwoman looked back at him.

“I still don’t think they’ve realized that Ivy is gone.” Stray laughed, “She left like, five minutes after the whole thing started. She destroyed the warehouses that belonged to DI and then just peaced out.”

Catwoman laughed, “Well, this will certainly make for a hell of a headline in the morning.”

Stray looked out over the destruction on the docks. Bits and pieces of the Drake Industries machines were still sparking and exploding, and all of the big drilling equipment was totally destroyed in Ivy’s initial attack. Hundreds of millions of dollars lost in an instant. This would cripple, possibly even destroy, Drake Industries attempt at getting into the energy market. It was the kind of thing that would send his father into a days long rage spiral, and Stray was sure that Jack Drake would be waking up to a phone call telling him about it any moment now.

“All in a days work.” Stray grinned, meeting Catwoman’s hand half way for a hi-five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! look forward to the comments!


	6. Sunday's in the Park with Jason

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Sunday's in the Park with Jason

 

Tim’s head was pounding, Or, rather, the center of Tim’s face was pounding.

He rolled onto his back in bed, his eyes tightly shut to block out the sunlight, trying to put off waking up fully for as long as he could. He could feel the sun that was peaking through the curtains on his skin, it was warm enough to tell Tim that it was probably some time in the later afternoon. They’d made it back home a little after three in the morning the night before, which meant Tim got a decent amount of sleep.

The door to his room creaked open, and the smell of fresh coffee came wafting towards him. The smell was enough to rouse him fully, he opened his eyes, blinking a few times before he wiped the sleep away, and sat up in bed. The blood rushing to his head made the room tilt to the side for a moment, but it righted itself quickly.

“Good afternoon.” Selina’s soft voice came from the door.

“Hi.” Tim said, wincing as his nose pulsed with pain, “What time is it?”

“A little after one in the afternoon.” The side of the bed dipped as Selina sat on it, she handed the black ceramic mug to Tim.

Tim savored the hot coffee as it hit his tongue, he wrapped both hands around his mug and breathed in the steam deeply, the heat of it soothing his nose, “Perfect.”

Selina smiled, “I heard you starting to stir a few minutes ago so I got it ready for you.”

Tim moved down the bed until he was close to Selina, he leaned into her side and dropped his head down to her shoulder, “You’re the best.”

“So they tell me.” Selina laughed, light and airy, “How’s your nose?”

Tim groaned again, finally reaching up to lightly press the tip of a finger to it. It didn’t feel swollen, but it was sensitive to touch. It wasn’t broken, but it still hurt like a bitch.

“Hurts.” Tim said honestly, “How does it look.”

Selina turned to face him, jostling his head from her shoulder. She hooked a finger under Tim’s chin, tilting his head upwards so she could get a better look at it. Tim sat still as she gently turned his head from side to side, and leaned in to inspect his nose closer.

“It probably hurts worse than it looks.” Selina said finally, “Light bruising that shouldn’t be too hard to cover with the right concealer and powder combination.”

Tim laughed, then immediately regretted the action when his nose protested, “If Robin’s head was any harder, he probably would have broken it.”

Selina let out a low huff that meant she was angry, “If he’d broken your nose, my tossing him from a building would be the least of his concern.”

“Such a mama cat.” Tim said, lightly nudging her with his elbow.

Selina’s fingers twined through Tim’s hair, “Go shower, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

“Sounds good.” Tim yawned, stretching his arms above his head as Selina left the room.

Tim pushed himself out of bed and ambled across the room towards his bathroom. He downed the rest of his coffee before opening the door, and left his mug on the small table just outside before he reached in and flipped on the lights. He shed his clothes as he walked across the bathroom, coming to a stop in front of the mirror. He flicked on the vanity lights, squinting at the sudden brightness as the dozens of luminous bulbs that surrounded the mirror flicked on.

Selina was right, even under the harsh light of the vanity that always revealed _everything_ , his nose didn’t look terrible. Icing it before he fell asleep the previous night helped with a lot of the swelling, and the feint yellowish-purple color of the bruise could be covered up by some stealthy makeup.

Tim pulled open the drawer of the vanity that held all his concealers, trying to find the perfect one that would give him enough coverage to set aside for after his shower. Once he had the correct tube, he opened the drawer below and pulled out the perfect setting powder, and then found the best brush for the job from the drawer on the opposite side of the vanity.

Learning the ins and outs from a professional makeup artist had been one of the more surprising parts of his training. It made sense once Tim really thought about it though, of course he’d have to learn how to cover up the bumps and bruises that were a hazard of the job. Selina taught him enough of the basics that he could have gotten by, but he wanted to learn techniques for every possible situation, so she’d taken him to Sweden to learn from one of the best makeup artists in the world who’d once worked as a fixer for an organization that was so secretive that it didn’t have a name. Tim learned from her how to cover every type of injury short of an amputation, and even learned how to use makeup to create realistic injuries and make existing ones look even worse than they were.

Suffice to say, a bruised nose was something that Tim could cover up perfectly with his eyes closed.

Tim inspected the rest of his body in the mirror. There were a few more bruises, including a rather nasty one on his back from where he’d fallen on the roof, but there weren’t any open wounds he’d need to worry about. The scars were where they always were, some from his training, and some from his father. He ignored them all.

He reached into the shower and turned the water on, and steam immediately began to fill the room. Tim stepped into the shower, standing directly under the rainfall shower head in the center of the ceiling and letting the water wash over him. It pounded into his shoulders, working out the tension in his muscles there. He blindly reached out and pressed a button on the wall of the shower, and the jets on the back of the wall started to pulse, shooting out blasts of hot water that worked out any soreness in his lower back.

Tim scrubbed himself clean, washed his hair with the special copper shampoo that was specifically designed to keep his hair perfectly blonde for as long as possible, and then killed the water. He stood in the center of the shower for another minute, letting the steam wrap around him as his body dripped itself dry.

He grabbed a towel as he stepped out of the shower, dragging it across his body to dry himself off completely. He wrapped the towel around his waist as he walked out of the bathroom and into his closet, he avoided the fancier clothes on the hangers and opened up one of the large drawers at the end of the walk in, pulling out a pair of soft sweatpants and a thin white shirt that hung loosely on his body every time he wore it. He dropped the towel and pulled on the clothes, then went back to the bathroom to do his hair.

After a quick session with the blow-dryer and a bit of product, Tim was relatively satisfied with his hair. He pulled out the chair in front of the vanity and dropped down into it, then used a hand towel to pat his face dry before he got started on concealing the bruise on his nose.

He opened up the concealer, then used the applicator to tap a bit of product onto the bridge of his nose. He only winced once when he pressed a little to hard on a sensitive spot in the middle, but he dotted the product up the center of his nose, and then brought it down the slopes on either side where the bruising was most concentrated, continuing on past the bruise itself to conceal under his eyes so it would blend better and provide a more natural look. Tim picked up the brush and started to stamp it lightly up the bridge of his nose, pressing the concealer directly into his skin instead of smudging it around. One the bridge of his nose was done, Tim buffed the rest of the product into the bruised skin on the sides of his nose and under his eyes. He put down the brush and inspected his work, smiling when not a single bit of bruised skin was visible.

Tim finished off the routine with a bit of translucent powder to set the concealer, just to be sure it wouldn’t smudge or crease for the rest of the day when he finally left the apartment. He put everything back in the drawer it belonged in, and set aside the brush he’d used for the concealer to clean it later.

“Easy enough.” Tim smiled as his reflection before pushing the seat back and standing.

He flipped off the vanity lights, then the overhead light as he stepped out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom. He grabbed his discarded coffee mug from earlier and hooked his finger though the handle to carry it down to the kitchen.

Miss Kitty was standing outside of his door when he opened it, and she immediately jumped from the floor to his shoulder when Tim saw her. Tim smiled as he felt her twist around before she draped her body sideways and wrapped her tail around his neck.

“Good afternoon.” Tim said fondly.

Miss Kitty didn’t respond, just nudged his ear with the tip of her wet nose. Tim shrugged, moving her with his shoulders, and walked downstairs to the lower level of the apartment. She hopped off his shoulder the second he hit the landing at the bottom of the stairs, abandoning him for her favorite spot on the floor, directly underneath a beam of sunlight that shone in though the balcony’s glass door.

Selina was leaning against the counter in the kitchen when Tim found her, she handed him the black tablet in her hand when he got close enough. Tim flipped it around to read the article she had pulled up, and his lips twisted upwards into a satisfied smile when he read the headline.

 

**_Drake Industries Stock in Free-Fall after Gotham Warehouse Attack_ **

****

Tim held the tablet in one hand and pulled out a stool at the bar with his other. He settled into his seat, reading out loud, “Drake Industries is in turmoil this morning following a late-night attack on one of their Gotham warehouses. Details are being kept away from the media, but it appears that eco-terrorist Poison Ivy was responsible for the destruction of millions of dollars of Drake Industries merchandise.”

“I wonder what gave them that idea.” Selina rolled her eyes, “The large tree the sprouted in the middle of the concrete, perhaps?”

“Our source tells us that Drake Industries was planning on unveiling its new energy program in the coming days, with the board of directions assembling in Gotham today, but it seems plans have changed as the attack destroyed every piece of equipment they inherited in the recent purchase of a competitor.” Tim continued to read out loud, “The source within the company said the move was poised to bring in hundreds of millions of dollars of revenue to the company, but that has all changed. Owner, President, and CEO of the company, Jack Drake, has not issued a statement on the attack, but sources say that his reaction could only be described as a nuclear meltdown. As news of the attack spread in the early hours of the morning, Drake Industries stock prices fell every hour, bottoming out at their lowest point in nearly five years.”

“Very impressive work, Kitten.” Selina said, circling around the back of his chair, and squeezing his shoulder.

“I wish I could have seen his face when he got the news.” Tim sighed, “The last time DI’s stock bottomed out like this was when I went missing.”

Tim hadn’t been awake for that part, but he’d gone back and read every article about his disappearance a few weeks after they left Gotham. Drake Industries was on red alert for days after his disappearance, the company barely holding itself together and investors fleeing the bad press that fell upon Jack and Janet’s shoulders in the wake of everything. Tim quickly realized that was the reason his “body” was found, and why they so quickly identified a suspect for his murder.

It was all to stop the company from crumbling.

“Somehow I doubt it will miraculously rebound like it did last time.” Selina hummed.

“We got lucky finding information that Ivy would care about.” Tim said honestly.

“I have no doubt that your brilliant little brain could have figured out something equally as dramatic if Ivy hadn’t been an option, Tim.” Selina said, “Don’t sell yourself short, the entire reason last night was possible was because of you.”

Tim ducked his head to hide the creeping flush on his cheeks, “I still need to take some time out to sift through everything I can find on the Drake Industries server.”

“There will be plenty of time for that.” Selina said, “Remember, we don’t want to take them down all at once. The key to something like this is going as slow as you can bear so that it doesn’t look too suspicious. Ivy’s attack can be written off as a terrible coincidence, but if we suddenly blow up another one of their labs then they might realize what’s happening.”

“I know.” Tim said, “Slow and steady wins the race, blah, blah, blah.”

Selina sighed, “Teenagers.”

“Anyway,” Tim hopped down from the stool and walked to the fridge to grab a bottle of water, “what are our plans for tonight?”

“Nothing.” Selina answered immediately, “We’re resting tonight.”

Tim frowned, “I thought we had a car to steal.”

“The shipment got delayed.” Selina said, “Something with the cargo manifest, it won’t be in Gotham for another few days.”

“Damn, I was looking forward to driving that thing.” Tim took a sip from the water bottle.

“Not happening.” Selina stared at him, eyebrow arched.

“You’re no fun.” Tim frowned again.

“You’ll thank me when we’re not scraping our intestines off a grimy sidewalk.” Selina dropped down onto the couch, stretching her body out across it.

“You really have no confidence in my driving ability, do you?” Tim laughed.

Selina stared at him from over the back of the couch, “Need I remind you of the golf cart incident in California.”

“Selina!” Tim wined, “You know that wasn’t my fault! I swear that thing had a mind of its own, it drove itself off the pier!”

Selina laughed, “Either way, I’d feel more comfortable if we left the piloting of a million-dollar car to me.”

Before Tim could reply, the phone on the wall next to the elevator rang. Tim looked at it curiously, it only ever rang when someone from the front desk was calling, and they usually only called when something was being delivered.

“Did you order something?” Tim asked Selina.

Selina tapped her chin a few times, “Not that I remember.”

“Weird.” Tim mumbled as he walked to the telephone and picked it up, “Hello?”

“Good afternoon, is this Mister Kyle?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Uh, yeah. Tim is fine.” Tim answered.

“Hi, Tim. This is Olivia down at the front desk, I have a guest here to see you.”

“A guest?” Tim asked, shooting a curious look at Selina.

Selina only shrugged.

“Yes. He says you know him.” Oliva said, “His name is Jason Todd.”

“Oh…” Tim trailed off, “Um, hold on for a second.”

That was…interesting. He remembered mentioning to Jason where he lived, but he never expected Jason to actually show up. He pressed the button to mute the receiver and looked at Selina.

“Who is it?” Selina asked.

“Um, it’s Jason Todd?” Tim said hesitantly.

“Interesting.” Selina hummed, “Do you want him to come up?”

“Do you mind?” Tim asked.

“Not at all.” Selina said, “As long as your room is clean.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “Yes, mom. The Stray suit and all related paraphernalia are locked away.”

Selina nodded, “Playdate granted.

“You’re the worst.” Tim mumbled before unmuting the handset, “Hi, sorry about that. You can send him up.”

“Alright.” Olivia said, “Have a good day, Mister Kyle.”

She hung up before Tim could correct her again. The private elevator hummed, signaling that it had been called down to the first floor. Tim didn’t really know what to do with himself, he honestly hadn’t expected to ever have a visitor in the house. He was glad for his preemptive bruise covering though, that would have been one hell of a thing to have to explain to Jason.

“Stop fidgeting.” Selina said.

Tim didn’t bother looking over his shoulder to glare at her, because he wasn’t fidgeting.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slowly opened to reveal Jason leaning against the back wall. He startled when they opened, like he hadn’t been paying attention for the last few seconds. He pushed himself off the wall, ran a hand through his hair to push it backwards, and stepped into the apartment.

Jason was dressed far more casually than the last time Tim saw him. His black jeans were ripped in several places, and they didn’t look like the kind of tears that were specifically done for fashion. His black converse were scuffed, and he wore a tight fitting AC/DC t-shirt.

“Hello, Jason.” Selina’s voice came from surprisingly close by.

Tim jumped, startled, and quickly looked over his shoulder so see Selina standing close behind him. It was almost impossible for someone to sneak up on Tim, Selina was the only one who could do it if she tried.

“Uh, hi.” Jason said, looking around, “This is a really nice place.”

“Thank you, Jason.” Selina said, “We’re still settling in, so everything is still finding its place, but I do believe it’s a keeper.”

“Hi.” Tim finally said to Jason.

Jason cracked a small smile, “Hey, I hope it’s OK that I just showed up.”

“Yeah, totally.” Tim said.

“Of course.” Selina echoed, “Any friend of Tim’s is welcome whenever.”

“Thanks.” Jason said, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, I was just around, and I thought I’d see if you wanted to hang out and like, get lunch or something.”

Jason shifted from one foot to the other, a sign of nervousness. He didn’t have to hear the uptick in his heartbeat, or the slight stutter of his pulse after he asked the question. He was worried about something, a fear of rejection maybe?

“Yeah, totally.” Tim smiled, “I wasn’t planning on doing anything else for the rest of the day anyway.”

“Cool.” Jason smiled.

Tim looked down at his outfit, “I should probably change first. Give me a second?”

“Sure.” Jason said.

Tim turned on his heel, walking around the corner and towards the stairs. He darted up the stairs, then down the hall to his bedroom, and shed his sweatpants once the door closed behind him. He figured he could keep the shirt on, it was plain white, but devoid of any stains and he really didn’t feel like trying to pick something else out.

He grabbed the first dark blue pair of jeans he saw, pulled them on, and followed it up with a pair of socks. Tim grabbed the a pair of brown ankle boots he saw on one of his shelves, slipped them on, and left the closet. He gave his face one quick check in the mirror to make sure none of the bruising or makeup was obvious, and when he was satisfied, he left the room and made his way back downstairs.

Jason and Selina had moved to the living room. Selina was sitting on the couch, both her legs crossed under her body, and Jason was leaning against the arm of the loveseat.

“How did the event turn out?” Selina asked him.

Jason rubbed the back of his head, “Good, I guess. I hard Bruce say that it made a bunch of money in donations.”

“Well, if there’s one thing obscenely rich people love, it’s paying money to look at things they could never hope to afford.” Selina said.

“I don’t really get the whole thing.” Jason said, “People paying money to look at a dumb rock. No offense.”

“None taken.” Selina laughed, “I spend most of my time at these events judging people anyway.”

“Selina’s favorite hobby is being judgmental.” Tim said, walking up behind Jason.

Jason turned, his eyes widening slightly as they swept over Tim’s body.

“Only to people who deserve it.” Selina said simply.

Tim ignored her, looking at Jason, “You ready?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jason said, blinking a few times before turning back to Selina, “Thanks for letting me steal Tim.”

Selina only smiled and nodded.

Tim turned and walked towards the elevator, the heels of his boots clicking against the tile floor. Jason was close behind him, nearly running into Tim’s back when he stopped to push the elevator button. The door opened instantly, but a sharp whistle from Selina stopped Tim before he walked inside.

“Yeah?” Tim asked, turning his head towards Selina.

“Wallet?” Selina asked.

Tim reached down to pat the back pocket of his jeans, and frowned when he found them empty, he looked back at Jason, “Crap. I’ll be right back.”

Tim moved back towards the stairs, but another whistle from Selina drew his attention again. She was still on the couch, but her arm was raised above her head. Tim’s wallet was in her hand, she waved it back and forth, grinning at him. Tim glared as he walked towards her, not entirely unconvinced that she hadn’t stolen it from him when he wasn’t paying attention.

“You left it on the counter.” Selina said, tossing it towards him when he got close to her.

“Likely story.” Tim muttered under his breath before turning back towards Jason, he looked over his shoulder and back at Selina and patted his front pocket to make sure she hadn’t stolen his phone too, “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Selina smiled, “Have fun!”

Tim sighed, she really was enjoying torturing him. Well, at least she wasn’t taking as much pleasure in it as she had in Brazil.

Jason had a hand out to stop the elevator door from closing. Tim stepped inside, and Jason pulled his hand back as Tim pressed the button to take them to the ground floor with his thumb. Tim settled himself back against the wall of the elevator, he looked at their blurred reflections in the metal door and noticed that Jason was smiling.

Tim twisted slightly so he was looking at Jason, “What?”

“Huh?” Jason stared at him for a few seconds until he registered what Tim was asking, “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about how I’ve never seen Selina like that, she’s nice. I’m using to seeing her at one of Bruce’s events, or in the paper or whatever.”

Tim smiled softly, “Yeah, she’s pretty great. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

It was a surprising thing for him to say, it sort of just slipped out, he’d never really talked to anyone who wasn’t a contact or a criminal about Selina before, so he’d never had the chance to really voice how he felt about her to another person.  The weight of it was made even stronger by the fact that they were both enclosed in a small metal box. Jason’s smile turned down into something close to a frown, but the elevator stopped, and the doors mercifully opened before the atmosphere had a chance to grow too heavy.

Tim stepped out of the elevator and waved at the front desk girl before heading towards the doors to the lobby. Jason was close behind him, and Tim stepped to the side so that they were both standing next to each other once they were on the street. The height difference was even more evident when they were standing next to each other, Jason was about a head taller than Tim, so Tim had to look up at him.

“Where to?” Tim asked.

Jason shrugged, “Anywhere you like around here?”

The Diamond District wasn’t exactly the place you went for a quick meal. All the restaurants were formal, even the smaller lunch places. They were all too stuffy, too much of a staunch sit-down affair, none of which sounded enjoyable.

“Not really,” Tim said, “I haven’t had a chance to explore much since we moved in, so my knowledge is limited to the takeout places that deliver, and all the stuffy restaurants on the block that would literally chase us away if we tried to walk in wearing what we are.”

Jason tipped his head back and laughed, his throat bobbing with the movement, “I dunno, now I’m kinda dying to find out what would happen if I tried to get a table at La Che in a band shirt.”

They started walking down the block, heading out of the Diamond District, “We could always pull the name card, they’d never turn us away if we did that.”

Jason smirked, his voice dropping into a faux posh British accent, “Hello, good sir! I am Jason Todd-Wayne, yes, Wayne like the name on half the buildings in the town, I demand your finest seat and a full course of fresh caught lobster!”

An actual giggle escaped Tim’s mouth, he effortlessly changed his voice into the most condescending imitation of a wealthy southern woman, almost ripped out of a scene from Gone with The Wind, “My name? Why, you should know who I am! I demand to speak to a manager at this very second! I will have your job for this!”

The light at the crosswalk turned red, and Jason reached his arm out to stop Tim, his fingers grazing Tim’s stomach, “God, you don’t know how many people I’ve been around like that since Bruce adopted me.”

Jason’s hand slowly pulled away, “I think I met a few of them the other night.”

“Dude, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve replayed that in my head.” Jason laughed, “It was beautiful.”

The light for the crosswalk turned green, and Tim followed Jason, “In retrospect, I think I let them off too easy.”

“I dunno.” Jason shrugged, “I saw one of them after you left, and he was still crying. Any worse and you might have done some permanent damage.”

Tim laughed, “I look forward to watching them run the other way when they see me in the hall at school.”

Jason stopped walking, “Wait, you’re going to Gotham Academy?”

Tim nodded, “I’ll be a Junior once school starts, but I’ll be taking some Senior classes since I’m already ahead in a few subjects from some of the schooling I’ve had when we were traveling. Selina and I finalized all the details a few days before we moved.”

“Well, god damn.” Jason laughed, rubbing the back of his head again, “I’ll be starting my senior year.”

“Maybe we’ll have some classes together.” Tim said, smiling.

“Yeah.” Jason agreed, “That would be awesome. I’ll show you around campus, if you want.”

“I’d like that.” Tim said.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence after that. Tim let Jason walk a few steps ahead, so he could follow him, and he noticed when the shine of the Diamond District faded and was replaced with something that looked more like the Gotham people imagined when they thought of it. They weren’t in a dangerous part of the city, well, anymore dangerous than Gotham was in general, but there weren’t any fancy restaurants or boutiques lining the street.

Tim didn’t mind it. He liked that Jason was taking him somewhere different, that he trusted Tim to follow him somewhere.

“You trust me?” Jason asked as they stopped in front of a random building a few minutes later.

Tim looked at the building in front of him. It was more than a little run down, the green door had more peeling paint than actual color on it, and the hazy glass windows had the word _butcher_ pasted on it in faded vinyl lettering. Tim could just barely make out what looked like a whole rack of lamb hanging from a hook inside the building.

“Uh…” Tim trailed off, “I think I’ve followed you this far, so even if I’m about to be murdered I’m interested to see how it’s going to go down.”

Jason rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the side lightly, “C’mon, I promise it’s worth it.”

Tim swept his arm forward, “After you.”

Jason bounded up the front steps of the building, pulling the old door open. The door groaned in protest, but Jason jerked it a little harder and it popped up, the sound of a bell ringing as it did. Jason held the door as Tim edged by, and Tim stood to the side as he waited for Jason to show him where exactly they were going.

The interior of the building didn’t look as bad as the outside did. It was clean, obviously cared for and well maintained, and there was a decent sized line standing at the counter. It was a functioning butcher shop, but Tim didn’t see anywhere to get food that wasn’t raw meat.

“C’mon.” Jason jerked his head towards the back of the shop.

They walked past the counter, through a collection of shelves that held various kitchen equipment, and came to a stop in front of a heavy oak door. Tim stared at it in confusion, the sign hanging on it told whoever read it not to knock on the door.

So, of course, Jason knocked on the door.

Nothing happening.

Jason sighed, tapping his toe against the linoleum, and then knocked on it again a few seconds later.

Still nothing.

“Of for the love off…” Jason growled, he curled his hand into a fist and banged on the door with several rapid strikes, “Yo, old man! Open the damn door!”

The sound of heavy footsteps came from the other side of the door, and then the door was ripped open to reveal a rather large, slightly terrifying looking man in the doorway. His grey hair was thick, and there were obvious muscles hidden beneath his stained apron.

“Do you not know how to read a sign?” The man growled with a thick Italian accent.

Jason didn’t say anything, he just crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at the man. The man stared at Jason for a few seconds, and then his face softened completely. The anger was gone in the blink of an eye, and his mouth split into a wide grin.

“Jason!” The man laughed, “Is that you, you little shithead?”

“Your eyesight going in your old age?” Jason laughed.

The man pulled Jason into a tight hug, lifting Jason’s feet off the ground. Jason grumbled and slapped at his shoulder, but he didn’t do anything else to try and get away from the man. He sat Jason back down on the ground a few seconds later, and used a large hand to ruffle Jason’s hair.

“You little shit for brains.” The man said affectionately, “I see your attitude hasn’t gotten any better.”

“Never.” Jason grinned, then turned to Tim, “Tim, this is Marco. Marco, this is Tim.”

“Tim!” Marco cheered, “Why are you with this one? You could have much better friends!”

Tim laughed, “The jury is still out.”

“Good.” Marco nodded, pointing at him, “Don’t let little Jason get you into too much trouble.”

“Little Jason?” Tim repeated with a laugh.

“Ignore him.” Jason rolled his eyes, “Marco, I want you to hook Tim up with one of your best sandwiches. I’ll have my usual.”

“I guess I can do that.” Marco said, “Do you like pastrami? You look like you like pastrami! I get you a pastrami sandwich.”

Marco disappeared before Tim could answer.

Tim stared at the empty doorway, “I guess it’s a good thing that I like pastrami?”

Jason laughed, “Pretty sure Marco has a magical power that tells him the kind of sandwich someone likes. It’s creepy.”

“He’s nice.” Tim said, smiling.

“He is.” Jason said, “He’s great. He…he really helped me out a lot when I was a kid. Gave me something to do sometimes, let me take out his trash or clean off equipment in the back for a few bucks when I didn’t have anything. He’s an old bastard, but he’s got a heart of gold.”

The look on Jason’s face was equal parts fond and sad, but Tim didn’t have a chance to reply before Marco reappeared in the doorway and thrust two brown paper bags at Jason. Jason took both bags in one hand, and then pulled out his wallet and passed Marco a folded $100 bill.

Marco immediately shook his head and pushed Jason’s hand away, “No, no, no! Insanity!”

“Marco, take the damn money.” Jason sighed.

“Too much for two sandwiches!” Marco said, “I don’t care that you’re a big fancy guy now, you’re still little Jason and little Jason doesn’t pay that much for anything!”

Jason laughed, “Marco, take the money or I’m leaving it with Gia, and you know what she’ll spend it on.”

Marco glared at him, but plucked the bill out of his hands, grumbling, “Better to spend it on a new blade for the machine instead of shoes.”

“Glad you see it my way.” Jason smirked.

“Yes, yes.” Marco rolled his eyes, waving them away, “Go now, before I change my mind you smug little shithead.”

“Love you too, Marco.” Jason called over his shoulder as they left the shop.

Jason handed Tim the folded bag that had the letter P scrawled on it in permeant marker when they were back on the sidewalk.

“That was nice.” Tim said.

Jason shrugged, “I try to do what I can to help him out now that I’m able to. I mean, Bruce give me this insane allowance every week and I never spend all of it, so I try to help out the people who helped me out when I didn’t have anything.”

“That’s really great.” Tim said sincerely.

You wouldn’t expect someone who looked like Jason to open up as much as he did. Jason Todd looked like the kind of guy who ran away from emotions, his exterior was more rough and tumble than talk about your feelings, but Tim learned a long time ago to not judge a book by its cover.

“There’s a park down here we can eat at.” Jason cocked his head to the side, “Well, it’s not really much of a park as it is a patch of grass with a few tables, but still.”

Tim laughed, “Sounds nice.”

Jason led him a few blocks down the street to the small park. He was right, it wasn’t anything impressive, but it was nicer than he gave it credit for. There were a few tables in the center of the grass, a swing set, and a small garden off to the corner that was blooming with colorful flowers. There was a small breeze, and it wasn’t too hot out, so the weather was perfect to sit outside and eat.

Jason sat on the left side of the picnic table, and Tim sat opposite him on the right side. When he opened his paper bag, he found his sandwich, and a cold can of soda. He smoothed out the paper bag on the table and sat the wrapped sandwich on top of it, he popped the can of soda and took a sip before he unrolled the sandwich and stared at it.

It did look perfect, it was on a whole grain roll and stuffed to the brim with meat and vegetables. Jason was slyly watching him from the other side of the table, a small smirk on his face.

“You’re waiting for me to take a bite, aren’t you?” Tim asked.

“Maybe.” Jason said, faux-nonchalant.

“Fine.” Tim rolled his eyes.

He took a bite of the sandwich, and then he froze. Tim stared at Jason, his eyes wide, and then Jason burst out into a fit of laughter. Tim swallowed the bite, then quickly took another, only stopping to take another sip of his drink.

It was the best sandwich Tim had ever had in his life.

“Told you.” Jason said before taking a bite of his sandwich and letting out a moan on that just feel on the good side of sinful.  

“This is amazing.” Tim said, finally sitting the sandwich back down.

“I know.” Jason said smugly, “The man is magic.”

“I don’t think I can ever eat another sandwich again, nothing will ever compare to this.”

Jason nodded, “That’s the danger you face when you have one of Marco’s sandwiches, it ruins all others for you.”

They finished off the rest of their sandwiches in silence, and Tim was pretty sure he’d never eaten a sandwich that fast in his entire life. There was a trashcan nearby, so Tim balled his bag and sandwich wrapper up and tossed it into the can. The paper circled the rim and rolled into the basket, and Tim dusted his hands off in success.

“Showoff.” Jason laughed, standing up and walking his own trash to the can.

Tim checked the time on his phone, he’d been out with Jason for a little over an hour. He wasn’t in any rush to leave Jason and head back home, and it didn’t seem like Jason was either, so Tim got up from the bench and sat on top of the left side of the table. Jason walked back from the trashcan and did the same, hopping on top of the table and sitting down next to Tim.

“I have a confession to make.” Jason said.

“Uh oh,” Tim said, “what?”

Jason looked down at the ground, angling his head away from Tim, “I wasn’t just in the area when I decided to come by.”

“Oh?” Tim asked.

Jason sighed, “Yeah. Sorry. I was just…I dunno. I guess I was worried about you after the other night, I just wanted to see if you were OK.”

Tim felt a wave of embarrassment pass over him. It had been a long time since he’d had a panic attack as bad as the one at the museum, and he felt the stress of it every time he thought of it. Part of it was the embarrassment of letting Jason see him like that, and the other part was the mounting anxiety of someone realizing why he had one.

“I’m sorry.” Tim said, nervously pressing his fingers together.

Jason shook his head, “You don’t have to apologize, I’m no stranger to panic attacks. Trust me.”

There Jason went again, giving up a personal detail without a second thought.  Tim felt guilty, but he also felt like he could trust Jason. Maybe it was stupid, he’d only known Jason for a few days, but Tim thought he was a pretty damn good judge of character. You didn’t work with Selina Kyle, and you didn’t become someone like Stray without being able to tell if you could trust someone.

Tim took a deep breath, “I thought I saw someone I knew at the museum.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Tim.” Jason said softly.

Tim shook his head, “I want to. I don’t ever really talk about it with anyone but Selina.”

By that, he meant never. He’d never talked about his father, or anything really, with anyone other than Selina. It was either too dangerous, or not worth the hassle, but it felt different with Jason.

“OK.”

Tim tipped his head up towards the sky and turned his face to the sun, “I wasn’t in a safe place before Selina found me. I thought I saw someone before, and I got scared, and that turned into the panic attack.”

Jason was quiet for a moment, and then, “My mom OD’d when I was ten. We were poor as shit before she died, but I didn’t have anything after she was gone. I lived on the streets for a few years after that, until I met Bruce. Sometimes I think I see her, and I get excited because it’s been so long and even though she wasn’t that great, she was still my mom. But then I remember that she’s gone, and I think about how her body looked when I found it, or I think about all the fucked up shit I had to do on the streets just to _survive_ because she was gone, and it fuckin’ takes me out for days. I can’t do anything, can barely even get out of bed to take a piss. Some people think that if you’re lucky and you get taken in by someone who loves you, who’s rich as fuck, that everything that was wrong with you goes away, but it doesn’t. You never forget being scared, tired, hungry, or alone.”

“No.” Tim agreed, “It doesn’t.”

“Sucks.” Jason said.

“Yeah.” Tim huffed out a laugh, “I love Selina, she’s given me so much and I’d be dead without her, but I still wake up sometimes and think I’m back where I was before her.”

Jason lightly bumped his shoulder into Tim’s, “But you’re not.”

“I’m not.” Tim replied, nudging Jason with his shoulder, “And you’re not alone.”

“Nah, I guess not.” Jason said with a barely there smile, a few seconds later, “You wanna head back?”

Tim thought about it for a second, and he decided that he really didn’t. Not yet, at least.

“Not really.” Tim said, shaking his head, “You?”

“Nope.” Jason said, “There’s this cool bookstore a few blocks over, they sell some weird shit that I’ve never seen anywhere else. Wanna check it out?”

“Sure,” Tim said, jumping down from the table, “lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! this chapter was fun to write, i look forward to the comments!


	7. Riding in Cars with Vigilantes

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

Riding in Cars with Vigilantes

 

“Well, that’s annoying.”

Stray leaned against catwalk railing, eyeing the warehouse below them. Catwoman’s arms were crossed over her chest, a single finger tapping against her chin in thought. Stray turned his attention back to the floor below them, focusing on the long trailer carrying a rather extreme selection of luxury vehicles. Their mark was on the top level of the trailer, closest to the main cab of the truck that was hauling the trailer.

Which meant that there were three other cars behind it that would have to be taken off the trailer first before they could even get to the car they were after.

The Aston Martin Valkyrie stood out even against the dozen other cars on the trailer. It’s gleaming black paintjob reflected the light miraculously every time Stray shifted his head slightly. It certainly looked worthy every penny of its $2.6 million price tag. It sort of reminded Stray of a miniature Batmobile.

“It shouldn’t add more than a few minutes onto our original plan. After all, we don’t have to worry about being as gentle with the other cars as we do with the Valkyrie.” Catwoman said, “In any case, we still have to worry about the armed guards before anything else.”

“Right.” Stray said, pulling the ears down from his head and flipping on the infrared lenses of the goggles.

There were five other people in the warehouse aside from Stray and Catwoman. One of the heat signatures belonged to the driver of the trailer, and the other four belonged to the armed escort service that was hired to accompany the trailer. Stray privately thought that only four armed guards for a group of cars that totaled over twenty million dollars wasn’t enough, but it made their job easier so he wasn’t complaining.

The black SUV that held the guards was parked several feet away from the trailer, and there wasn’t much cover between the two. Once Stray or Catwoman tried to do anything, the guards would know.

Unless.

“Tell me when you’re ready.” Stray turned, looking at Catwoman.

She tapped her goggles, the lenses briefly flashing a pale green, and nodded, “Ready when you are, Kitten.”

Stray pulled his gauntlet back and reveled the tablet inside of it. He tapped it once, typing in a quick string of code to jam the communications in the area, and then opened up the local electrical grid. He navigated through the menus until he found their location, patched himself into the relay for the building they were in, and then pressed a single button to plunge the warehouse into darkness.

Stray’s goggles quickly transitioned from infrared to night vision, and the armed guards flew out of the car the second the lights went out. They reached for their radios, shouting orders into them that would never be heard by the person on the other side. It was their que, so Stray and Catwoman both leapt down from the catwalk and circled around the back of the SUV.

Each guard was carrying two weapons, a standard pistol and a modified sub-machine gun. Catwoman took the right side of the vehicle, and Stray took the left. He snuck up on his first target, swiftly grabbing the sub-machine gun from his hands, disengaging the clip, and tossing it across the room. He drew his fist back, slammed it into the center of the mans face, and then swept his feet out from under him.

The guy was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

The second target was harder. He was alerted by the sound around him, and his eyes must have adjusted to the darkness quicker than Stray figured they would, because he let off a string of gunfire that came far too close to Stray for his liking.

Stray dropped to the ground, pressing his body flat against the concrete as the bullets flew overhead. He flipped over onto his back, and then used his feet to push himself across the smooth floor of the warehouse. The skintight suit allowed him to glide across the floor like a hockey puck, and he easily slid through the space in-between the guards’ wide stance.

Stray popped up behind him, drove the tip of his boot into the back of the guards’ knee, and then hooked his forearm around his neck. The sub-machine gun fell from his hand the second Stray started to apply a minimal mount of pressure, and Stray kicked it across the floor to the other side of the warehouse.

His second guard lost consciousness after a few more seconds, and Stray disarmed him of his pistol before pulling him closer towards the first unconscious guard.

Both of Catwoman’s marks were already down by the time Stray was done, and he rounded the front of the trailer to see her handcuffing the driver to a nearby pole with a piece of duct tape over his mouth.

Stray pulled his tablet back out and turned the power to the building back on. The light flickered on, and Stray flipped the ears back up onto his head. He looked at Catwoman with an arched eyebrow, pointing to the driver.

Catwoman shrugged, “He looked too fragile to injure.”

She was right, the guy looked like he barely weight over a hundred pounds soaking wet. Stray felt a stab of guilt that they were running his night like this, he wasn’t like the armed guards they just took out

“We’ve got about twenty minutes before one of those guys wakes up, maybe less if whoever they were trying to call for help realizes that they aren’t answering.” Stray said.

“Let’s get to work then.” Catwoman said, crawling into the cab of the trailer.

She hit a button, and the whirr of the trailers gate lowering echoed through the warehouse. It slowly let itself down until the metal ramp clanked against the concrete floor, Catwoman cut the power off so it would stay locked into place. She crawled out of the opposite door, tossing Stray an envelope that was filled with keys.

“We’ll get the other cars out of the way first, and then I’ll drive us out of here in the Valkyrie.” Catwoman dangled the keys to the Valkyrie on an extended claw.

Stray upended the envelope, dumping the keys on the floor. He moved them around with the toe of his boot until he found the keys to the first car on the back of the trailer, the Bugatti Chiron. He unlocked the car, and then scaled the trailer, climbing up the side and sliding across the hood of the Bugatti until he was on the drivers side. The interior of the car was sleek, white and blue leather that just screamed expensive.

Stray slid into the car, rolling down the window as he cranked the engine, “Why aren’t we talking more of them?”

“Because that’s not the job.” Catwoman answered, “Plus, I don’t have anywhere to put them.”

Stray huffed, ignoring the obvious lie. She could buy up her own warehouse to store the cars if she wanted, but cars had never been Catwoman’s thing.

Stray undid the emergency brake, and then let the Bugatti roll down the ramp. It was a bit nerve wracking, but as soon as it was on the concrete, he shifted it to drive and pulled it off to the side, parking it right next to the SUV.

Catwoman was already inside the next car by the time Stray made his way out of the Bugatti. The red brake lights of the McLaren burned brightly as Catwoman shifted gears, she was a bit more reckless in the removal of the car than Stray had been. Stray winced sympathetically as the front bumper of the McLaren scraped against the edge of the metal ramp as Catwoman rolled the car off to the side.

 The final car to go was the Mercedes. Stray kicked the keys up into the air with the toe of his boot, snatching them as he spun back to the trailer. He once again scaled the side, hopped into the car, and reversed it down the ramp. He parked it in between the Bugatti and McLaren, the waited off to the side as Catwoman slowly reversed the Valkyrie down the ramp.

There was an obvious difference in the care she was taking with the Valkyrie as opposed to the McLaren. She paused as the edge of the ramp, the same spot she’d scraped the bumper on the previous car, and moved it back a centimeter at a time. Stray held his breath, only sighing in relief when all four tires of the Valkyrie were safely on the floor of the warehouse.

The passengers side door of the Valkyrie opened, slowly raising itself upwards until it was standing up straight towards the roof of the warehouse.

Catwoman leaned across the center console, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

Stray stared at her, blinking, “I never should have let you watch that.”

Catwoman smirked, shrugging as Stray walked forward and slid himself into the car. The door lowered automatically, locking shut as soon as Stray buckled himself into the seat. The interior of the car blinked to life, dull blue lights illuminating the consoles and screens inside the car. Stray trailed his fingers over the smooth chrome, and ignored a pointed side glance from Catwoman.

“I’m not gonna scratch it.” Stray groaned dramatically.

Catwoman hummed, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stray rolled his eyes, “How long do we have until the drop off?”

Catwoman glanced at the clock inside the car, “About half an hour.”

Catwoman pulled the car out of the warehouse, she gently drove it over a few speed bumps, and then idled at the gate before turning on to the main road. She was checking for any signs of the police, or a certain caped duo.

They weren’t far from their drop off point, probably only about twenty minutes from the dock where a boat would be waiting to take the car to its new home. Catwoman had already disabled the LoJack, so there was no danger of it being tracked after the trade off.

“Keep a look out for anyone on our tails.” Catwoman said.

Stray saluted, “Aye-aye, captain.”

It would be all but impossible to miss the Batmobile, but Stray still kept his eyes glued on the rearview mirror just in case.  The Valkyrie drove silently, there wasn’t a single sound coming from outside the car as Catwoman drove it down the almost abandoned side streets of Gotham. They’d planned out the route perfectly, there was a collection of roads no one in Gotham drove anymore due to the recently constructed raised bridges that criss-crossed over sections of the wealthier parts of the city.

Stray saw them when they were about ten minutes out from the dock, “We have company.”

The unmistakable shine of the Batmobile’s dark metal glinted under the streetlights behind them. It moved through the night like a missile, one that was locked on to them perfectly.

Catwoman sighed, “Well, this is certainly annoying.”

“We probably can’t shake them, can we?” Stray asked as the Batmobile closed in on them.

“We could, but it would require time that we don’t have.” Catwoman said, “It would also be too big of a risk of damaging the vehicle, the Bat isn’t quite as gentle as he looks.”

“Gentle? Really?” Stray arched an eyebrow.

Catwoman ignored him, “Hold on to something, sweetie.”

Catwoman slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel to the side. Stray lurched forward with a jolt, his chest straining against the padded straps of the seatbelt. One of Catwoman’s arms was locked onto the wheel as she held it into the position, the other reached down and grabbed the emergency brake, jerking it upwards. The car stopped moving instantly, they were sitting diagonally in the middle of both lanes now.

The Batmobile came to a fluid stop about a hundred feet short of them. Both cars sat there for a moment, idling, until the Batmobile revved its engine.

“Really?” Stray laughed.

“He’s just showing off.” Catwoman shook her head, she glanced at the clock again, “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Catwoman hit a button on the door and it slowly opened upwards, she slipped out of the door swiftly, like water pouring over the brim of a glass. Stray opened his own door, unbuckled his seatbelt, and crossed around the front of the Valkyrie, coming to a stop right next to Catwoman.

The bright lights of the Batmobile dimmed slowly, and then the top of the vehicle retracted. Stray saw the points of Batman’s cowl first, and then the tangled curls of Robin’s hair. Batman launched himself out of the cockpit, his cape billowed behind him as he flew through the air and landed about thirty feet in front of them.

Robin tried to do the same, but he stumbled when he landed, and Batman’s grip on his cape was the only thing that stopped him from face planting into the asphalt.

Stray cackled, he laughed even harder when Robin’s brows drew together in frustration.

“Stealing cars now?” Robin asked.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Stray grinned, licking his lips, “It rides like a dream.”

Robin’s nostrils flared.

Batman stood silently for a few seconds, then turned his head slightly towards Catwoman, “Give me the keys, and I’ll let you go.”

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” Catwoman asked, “Isn’t there a breakout at Arkham or something that requires your undivided attention?”

“No.” Batman said, “It’s a quiet night.”

“Which means you two get our undivided attention.” Robin smirked.

“Lucky us.” Stray deadpanned.

“You take the Bat, I’ll take the Bird.” Catwoman’s whisper was only audible to him.

Stray nodded slightly, just a fraction of a movement, enough for Catwoman to know he agreed. They’d talked about it earlier, that they’d switch up their normal targets if they ran into them tonight. As tough as Batman liked to seem, they both knew he wouldn’t actively try to hurt Stray because he was a child, and Catwoman could easily fluster Robin without having to lay a single hand on him.

Tonight wasn’t about bloodshed, it was about getting away from the Duo as quickly as possible. All Stray had to do was get close enough to touch the hood of the Batmobile, and they’d be set.

Stray took a few lazy steps forward, scuffing the heel of his boot against the ground, “So, how are we gonna do this?”

Robin darted forward just as Stray flicked out a single claw on his index finger. Stray didn’t move, he let Robin advance on him until he was within striking distance, and then Catwoman slipped around behind Robin. Catwoman grabbed the end of Robin’s cape, twisting it around in her hands, and jerked him backwards away from Stray.

“What the-” Robin flailed as Catwoman jerked him to the side.

Batman moved in their direction, but Stray popped a smoke bomb out of one of the pockets on his belt and threw it on the ground between them. The bomb went off with a small poofing sound instantly, and a thick cloud of smoke obscured Robin and Catwoman. Batman raised his cape defensively, but must have realized it wasn’t anything dangerous, he swept his cape through the cloud to brush away some of the smoke, then turned towards Stray.

“Catwoman knows I won’t hurt you.” Batman said.

“She’s optimistic.” Stray shrugged, “I’m prepared either way.”

Batman took a step forward, and his presence alone was imposing. Timothy Drake would have been a cowering mess in front of him, too scarred from years of pain to stand up to someone like Batman.

Stray, on the other hand…

Stray dashed to the side to try and get around Batman, but Batman must have anticipated it. Batman cut him off, blocking his line of sight on the Batmobile. Stray extended the claws on one of his hands and swiped at Batman. Batman leaned backwards, easily dodging Stray’s attack.

Batman stood motionless in front of Stray, “If you come with me, I can help you.”

“Help?” Stray rolled his eyes, “What could you _possibly_ help me with?”

“A child shouldn’t be out in the middle of the night doing what you’re doing.” Batman said, taking another step back as Stray swiped at him again.

Stray let out a loud laugh that echoed around the empty street, he pointed at Robin, who was rolling around in circles dodging light snaps from Catwoman’s whip, “Seriously?”

“That’s different.” Batman said cooly.

“Different?” Stray mocked, “It’s OK when you throw a costume on a child, then send him out in the middle of the night to fight other costumed psychopaths, but it’s not OK when I put on a costume to steal a few diamonds from people who don’t deserve them? On the grand scale of fucked up things in this universe, I think stealing a car is less dangerous than fighting the Joker.”

Batman flinched, just slightly. Stray wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t listening for any change in Batman’s pulse. It was as good of an opening as Stray was ever going to get, he took advantage of Batman’s slight distraction and ran, throwing his body forward through the air. Stray’s palms hit the asphalt first, he pushed himself up and used the momentum to throw himself into a handspring. Batman hadn’t expected that, which let Stray fly straight over his head.

Stray landed in a crouch on the ground behind Batman. He didn’t want for Batman’s confusion to pass, he made a line straight for the Batmobile. If he could just make it to the hood, they’d be able to make it to the docks and home again without any trouble. The hood of the Batmobile was almost within reach, Stray slipped his fingers inside another pouch on his belt and pulled out a round metal disk that he placed flat on the palm of his gloved hand.

A sharp jerk stopped Stray just a few feet shy from the Batmobile. Stray looked over his shoulder and found Batman standing over him, he had a strong hand wrapped around Stray’s forearm. He was squeezing just enough to keep Stray in place, and it was obvious that Batman was going to great lengths to make sure he wasn’t causing Stray any pain, but the obvious difference in strength between them made Stray’s stomach bottom out.

“Let me go!” Stray growled, he flicked out the claws on his free hand and swiped them at Batman’s arm, they didn’t even leave a mark on his armor.

“I’m taking you home.” Batman said, “Your parents need to know where you are.”

“My parents…” Stray trailed off, and his vision went red.

Stray pulled his arm, trying to wrench it out of Batman’s grasp. It barely moved, but it did cause Batman to tighten his grip, which is exactly what Stray wanted. Stray pulled his arm again, but this time he let out an ear-piercing cry of pain.

“My arm!” Stray screamed, letting his body wilt towards the ground until he was being held aloft by Batman’s grip on his arm.

Stray heard a sharp intake of breath from Batman, and the sounds coming from Catwoman and Robin’s side of the street quieted abruptly. Stray squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and when he looked back up at Batman they were welling with tears. Stray felt the first teardrop pass over the rim of his mask, no doubt smearing the black makeup at that was around his eyes.

The rest of the tears came easy after that, and Stray distantly wondered how much of them were real, and how much of them were fake.

Batman’s face froze in shock, his mouth slightly parted, and he quickly let go of Stray’s arm. Stray jerked his arm back to his chest, he cradled it, whimpering as he looked up at Batman. He cut his eyes past Batman and to the side of the street that Robin and Catwoman were on. Robin had already taken a few steps forward, which meant that Stray could see Catwoman smirking behind him.

Catwoman’s smirk vanished, and it was quickly replaced with one of pure fury, she screamed, “What did you do?”

Batman looked lost, he looked at Stray, then back at Catwoman, and then back at Stray, “I…”

The second time Batman looked back at Catwoman, Stray made his move. He noticed Robin register what was happening, but he was too far away to do anything to stop it. That actually made Stray respect him more.

Stray stuck his leg out and hooked the tip of his foot behind Batman’s knee. He jerked his leg forward, hitting the soft spot inside the back of Batman’s knee and causing him to fall towards the ground.

Stray really wished he could have gotten a picture of Batman’s stunned, wide-eyed look of confusion.

He pushed himself up off the ground with the arm he’d pretended was hurt, and he backflipped onto the hood of the Batmobile just to show off. He placed his hand flat onto the hood of the Batmobile, sticking the small disk directly in the center of it. Catwoman was already making her way back to the Valkyrie in the distance.

“You little shit!” Robin yelled, his mouth a grim line.

“Me?” Stray smirked, waggling his fingers and twisting his perfectly fine arm back and forth.

Batman was still stunned, which surprised Stray. The idea that he might have actually hurt a kid was really affecting Batman, which made a part of Stray feel terribly guilty.

The Valkyrie’s engine revved, and Stray saw Catwoman throw the car into reverse and head towards him. Stray shook off his feeling of guilt and jumped off the hood of the Batmobile, cutting a huge circle around Batman and Robin.

Robin wasn’t in the mood to give up though, he chased after Stray, “Get your ass back here!”

Stray figured he could make it to the Valkyrie in time, but he was still running a few plans through his head just in case Robin caught up with him.

He didn’t have to worry about it though, because Batman’s voice boomed from behind them, “Robin! Let them go.”

Robin stopped in his tracks, but Stray kept running, “What? What the hell, B? You’re just going to let that asshole get away?”

“The Batmobile is out of commission, there’s nothing we can do.” Stray looked back to see Batman standing in front of the Batmobile, staring at the disk that Stray placed on the hood.  

“What the fuck!” Robin growled, “I’m gonna kick your fuckin’ ass the next time I see you.”

The door to the Valkyrie was already open from Stray got to it, he stopped and turned back to Robin before he got inside, “You can try.”

Stray punctuated his statement with a wink, and then he blew Robin a kiss for good measure. The last thing Stray saw before slipping inside the Valkyrie was Robin’s flushed cheeks and wide eyes.

Catwoman gunned it as soon as Stray buckled his seatbelt, “Smart thinking.”

“Yeah.” Stray said, he chewed on his bottom lip for a second, “I feel kinda bad…he looked really freaked out when he thought he hurt me. I didn’t think I’d ever see _Batman_ with that kind of look on his face.”

“He hates the idea of hurting kids as much as I do.” Catwoman said, “I don’t think he’s ever come upon one quite like you in his line of duty, he doesn’t know how to handle you.”

“Oh.” Stray said softly.

Stray shifted in his seat and stared at the window and watched as the dark buildings went by outside. They grew sparser and more run down the closer they got to the docks, boarded up windows and for sale signs replacing the glittering glass from before.

The gate was already open when they made it to the docks, Catwoman drove the car right up to the edge of a ramp that was hanging off the back of a small cargo boat. Stray slipped out of the car and hung back while Catwoman made the trade off, he wandered around the docks until he found a set of wooden pallets stacked about six feet high.

Stray climbed to the top and hung his legs over the side as he looked out across the bay. The waves gently lulled across the surface, and the smell of salt was thick in the air. He kicked his legs against the side of the pallets and sighed. He couldn’t stop thinking of Batman’s face when he thought that he hurt Stray, and he compared it to the face of his father the first time that Jack Drake broke Timothy’s arm.

They couldn’t have been any different.

Stray hadn’t had many experiences with grown men who didn’t want to hurt children, and it threw him for a loop.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Catwoman asked, crawling up the pallets next to him.

“Just thinking.” Stray said with a shrug.

“Kitten.” Catwoman said softly, her arm wrapped around his shoulder and she pulled him to her side.

They sat like that for a few more minutes, they watched the boat carrying the Valkyrie push off from the dock, and soon it disappeared into the fog of the harbor.

Stray sighed, “I’m going to miss that car.”

Catwoman laughed, she reached up and ruffled his hair, “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait lol hope you enjoyed it! i look forward to the comments!


End file.
